


Isolation

by Shayz



Series: Unconditional Universe [1]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Action, Adult Rated, Alternate Reality, Drama, F/M, Het, Romance, SGA Alternate Season 1
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-11
Updated: 2014-07-11
Packaged: 2018-02-08 06:11:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 41,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1929678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shayz/pseuds/Shayz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>During general planet recon, Major John Sheppard is struck by lightning and dies... then things get interesting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was my very first SGA fic, I hope it still holds up.

 

 

 

  


**_Starring:_** _John Sheppard, Elizabeth Weir, Rodney McKay, Carson Beckett_

_**With:** Aiden Ford, Teyla Emmagan, Peter Grodin, Radek Zelenka_

_**And Introducing:** Ashri_ (OC)

****  
DAY 1

Running at top speed for the Stargate, Major John Sheppard brings up the six of his off-world Atlantis team: Teyla Emmagan’s in the lead followed closely by Lt. Aiden Ford and finally Dr. Rodney McKay, wheezing hard as usual. As they race through the beautiful meadow on MPX-446, planet Luminance, the exotic yellow-blue grass whips at their legs leaving tell-tale markings on their trousers.

 _No bleach in this galaxy’s gonna get out these stains,_ John muses. The thought pops into his head and quickly vanishes when slashes of blue-white lightning spider-web across the clear pastel pink and green alien sky and over the mountain range behind the Stargate. Crackling thunder follows an instant later. John glances at the sky, marveling at the lack of blue as well as clouds. He’s heard of dry lightning on Earth, but never really experienced it…except for that one crazy trip to Las Vegas, but he’d been really drunk—

“Incoming!” Ford yells and all four dive to the ground and cover their heads as lightning zaps nearby, sending a plume of dirt into the air and onto the team. They all cough from the dust.

John checks his watch, waits for the rumbling thunder and marks the time then waits again. He looks up and judges the distance to the gate. The Stargate stands maybe a hundred yards away in front of a mountain on an ancient, ‘barely-survived-the-weather’ stone altar next to a dark pond. Broken stone pillars with ancient symbols surround the area making it inaccessible by ship, which he regrets thoroughly now.

Only seconds have passed since the lightning strike. John waves a hand through the dusty air. “Think that should be in the brochure?”

“Yeah, Ford,” McKay groans, lifting himself to his elbows. “Definitely a great vacation spot.”

“You’re the one who thought it was pretty,” Ford grumbles.

  
~~~

Rodney wipes the dirt from his face as he sits up and glares at Ford. “Well, the MALP didn’t show--” Lightning strikes the Stargate; sparks leap from it, igniting a nearby tree. Rodney points sharply at the explosion. “That!”

Ford rolls his eyes and they both turn to Teyla when she speaks. “My father never mentioned storms of this kind.”

Rodney raises his brows. “Certainly explains the lack of civilization though, huh? I mean, who’d stay on a plan--” Thunder rumbles loud enough to cut him off mid-sentence. He can feel the planet’s surface jar from the concussion.

Getting to his feet, Sheppard yells: “That’s two! Get moving. Ford, dial it up.”

Rodney knows they have little time before the next assault. The pattern hasn’t changed for the past hour: lightning spider-webs the sky followed by a crash of thunder. Next a deadly strike finds a target on the planet followed again by thunder; then a second flash of lightning does its damage on the ground, after the peel of thunder, the spider-webbing starts again.

Unfortunately for them, the lightning seems to be drawn to humans more than anything else. Rodney can’t understand why—possibly due to all the hardware they carry—but since the storm started, they’ve all had bright red bulls-eyes painted on them. He and Teyla heed Sheppard’s call and are instantly in motion, following Ford to the DHD. The Lieutenant punches in the address for Atlantis.

Nothing happens. Rodney looks back at Sheppard.

The Major’s watching the sky; worry lines deepen on his forehead. “Lieutenant?! Less than a minute!”

“Trying, sir.” Ford dials again. The wormhole whooshes out just as lightning once again spider-webs overhead. Rodney sees the young Lieutenant enter his identification code—IDC—on his wristband GDO—a thoroughly ridiculous acronym, in Rodney’s opinion, meaning garage door opener—and a moment later nod acknowledgment.

Sheppard sharply motions toward the gate. “Teyla – go!”

Teyla races up the stone steps of the altar, Rodney and Ford follow with Sheppard bringing up the rear. Teyla rushes through the event horizon as Rodney and Ford reach the top step. Thunder rumbles, rocking the Stargate platform. Rodney glances over his shoulder expecting Sheppard to be right behind him and push him through the gate. Only he’s not there.

For some reason, Sheppard skids to a stop at the edge of the pond and looks down. It’s a brief pause, mere seconds, but long enough for the first strike of lightning to find its mark! As Rodney watches in horror, Sheppard’s body jerks and bucks as megawatts of electricity zap through him from head to toe and he falls into the water face down. “Major!”

Rodney makes a move toward Sheppard but thunder rattles the altar nearly knocking both him and Ford off their feet. Rodney hears Ford yell: “McKay down.”

Next thing Rodney knows, the air rushes out of his lungs as Ford dives forward, hits his waist and they both go through the gate. Rodney falls hard on his right shoulder in the Atlantis gate room with Ford landing half on and half off of him as if they were just playing football. Dust and large altar stones follow them through the gate before it shuts down.

“Rodney! What happened?” Rodney looks up, seeing Dr. Elizabeth Weir standing at the balcony railing.

Teyla helps Ford and Rodney to their feet. “Dial it up. We’re going back,” Rodney shouts.

Elizabeth leans heavily on the railing. “Where’s Major Sheppard?” He can hear the worry in her voice. Like everyone else in Atlantis—except perhaps Bates or Kavanaugh, but no one counts them—Elizabeth holds great esteem for the Major.

Rodney raises a hand. “He’ll be fine, if we go back now!” _I hope_ , he adds silently. Rodney never had a brother, only a sister who’s blindly jealous of his brains, but in the few months he’s shared with Major Sheppard, he thinks he finally knows what all the sibling fuss is about. Sheppard and he fight and curse each other, but he feels deep down there’s a growing respect…dare he say, a friendship even.

Teyla’s face creases with worry lines. “The lightning?”

Ford looks at them with pain in his eyes. Talk about hero worship. The kid will be lost without Sheppard. Rodney locks his eyes onto Teyla’s and she clearly understands the urgency. He looks back up at Elizabeth again. “Now would be good.”

Elizabeth nods to Peter and as the scientist starts dialing the return address, Rodney, Teyla and Ford move aside as to not get caught in the wave.

Ford taps his foot impatiently. “C’mon. Dial it!”

“It’s not locking on,” Peter says loud enough for them to hear.

Rodney looks to Ford then Teyla; sure that he’s mirroring their worried expressions.

 

** DAY 0 **

John’s restless as he sits in the mission briefing. He rubs his forehead then scratches at his chest. He needs some sleep. The last mission took a lot out of him. He scratches his forehead then rubs his chest. He can’t seem to concentrate on the conversation and wants nothing more than to leave.

So far he’s missed most of what Teyla has said. “My father’s father discovered the Luminaté in his boyhood. Quite advanced, peaceful. Fair traders.”

“Planet Luminance,” Elizabeth says, smiling. “Beautiful name.”

“And from what I remember of my father’s tales, the planet and the great city itself live up to it. Breathtaking was the description.”

John scans the others: Teyla, Ford, McKay and Elizabeth all look relaxed and rested. _Jerks._ McKay’s stuffing his face with some kind of sandwich, but John can’t smell it. _Better not be the last of the turkey, or I’m gonna be kicking some ass later._

“And the bad news?” John mutters, once again attacking the spot over his right eye. Must be a stray hair tickling him. But there’s another itch on the left side of his chest he can’t get rid of either. He feels like a cat having a feather toy brushed against his body and he just wants to attack it…and whoever’s holding the toy!

Teyla raises her brows as she speaks to him. “Sadly, I am unsure if they are…still around. My people lost contact with them over a generation ago.”

John makes a face, giving the impression he’s actually paying attention, but in fact he’s contemplating a shower. He can’t stop scratching.

“More than a hundred years?” McKay says around a mouthful of food. “So, why bother. If the Wraith wiped them out--”

“We need supplies,” Elizabeth says. “We need medicine.”

“You said peaceful,” Ford raises his brows. “Not Genii peaceful, right?”

“Again Lieutenant, I have never met them. There is a risk.”

John shrugs and rolls his head trying to release some of the tension in his neck. “Risk, adventure… makes life worth living.”

McKay smirks. “Only if you manage to stay alive, Major.”

Elizabeth rises to leave. Ford, Teyla and McKay follow. John is ready to go, literally itching to get out of there since the meeting began...not that he can remember when it started—seems like a lifetime ago—he can barely remember anything that took place.

“So, it’s a mission,” Elizabeth says. “Be careful. And Rodney…polite. We don’t need any more enemies.”

McKay huffs and whines. “That wasn’t my fault.”

“Let’s not lay blame.” John concentrates on getting out of the chair. He presses his hands into the table and pushes, straining his arms, but his lower body doesn’t move. It’s as if he’s glued to his seat. _Rodney!_

“Major?” Elizabeth raises a brow.

John finally gives up and drops his hands onto the table. “I can’t move.”

McKay chuckles. “Well, of course not. You’re dead.”

John looks sharply at McKay. _What the--_

But before he can say anything, Ford slaps John’s shoulder and grins at him. “Do you think you’re a super hero? You took--” he looks to McKay. “What was it?”

“100 million volts.”

Elizabeth crosses her arms and her brows shoot up and she grins. “Shocking.” Laughing at her own joke, she gets the other three chuckling as well. John can’t believe his ears.

Conversationally, McKay adds, “It’s not the volts that get you. It’s the amps.”

“Wait--” John starts but Teyla cuts him off.

“I thought you said he drowned.”

Ford and McKay respond at the same time. “After.”

Elizabeth bobs her head, still grinning. “Oh, right. Light bulb to submarine.”

Teyla nods as well, making a face. “I’d be pissed.”

John’s floored by Teyla’s comment. “What?” _Something is so wrong here!_

“Must’ve lit up like a Christmas tree,” Elizabeth says, heading for the open doors. The foursome leaves him behind as if he doesn’t exist.

“Christmas,” Ford says on the way out. “Are we celebrating that this year?”

John closes his eyes, willing his body to move. Just as he begins to rise from the chair, a brilliant white light flashes before his eyes or from behind his eyes, he can’t be sure. All he knows is it hurts like hell and he wants to scream…but his voice is missing.

 

~~~

John blinks and his eyes slowly focus. He blinks again and dodges his gaze away from the pain inducing brightness. Beyond the beam, he catches sight of Carson, flicking a pen-light into his eyes.

“There he is,” Carson drawls. He takes away the light and smiles at John. “Good to have you back, Major.”

John jerks, suddenly wide awake. His head is killing him and he touches the spot…the same spot that itched before. There’s a bandage over his right brow. “How long have I been out?” John’s eyes roam over the immediate area, trying to maintain focus.

To his right, Carson looks down at him with a sympathetic smile. “Nearly a week.”

And to his left… _whoa!_ John knows he’s gaping, but can’t control himself at the sight of the nurse checking his I.V.

“But, Ashri here’s been taking grand care of you,” Carson adds.

Since no one else is around, John assumes Carson is referring to the twenty or thirty something raven–haired, snow–white beauty… _damn! Where did she come from?_ He’s sure he would have remembered seeing this gorgeous creature before. It’s not like he’s never been stranded in the infirmary for an indomitable period of time.

Not that he’s some dog checking out all the female members of the expedition, he does have other things to think about. _Who the hell are you trying to kid, John._ Okay so maybe he is a dog, but…no man could forget this woman…not ever.

When she turns away from him, he sees her rich black hair hangs in a single braid all the way to the tops of her thighs, which he easily imagines being just as long and exceptionally toned. Not that the medical uniform she wears gives a hint of her actual attributes, but…well being a guy, John has a wonderful imagination. In fact…he’s imagining all sorts of--

“Major,” Carson’s snapping his fingers in front of John’s eyes.

John rips his gaze from the nurse and blinks at the Scotsman. “I don’t remember her,” he says quietly.

Carson shrugs. “No reason you should. She’s a quiet lass. Keeps to herself. Hasn’t spoken a word in…well...ever it seems. Though I do believe she has an eye for Dr. McKay.”

“Rodney?” John’s heart thumps heavily as illogical and yet immediate jealousy takes hold. “No way.”

Carson raises his brows and smirks. “Aye. Makes you wish you were awake for all those sponge baths, now. Eh, Major.” He raises a brow at Carson, who’s grinning slyly. John’s about to say something decidedly off-color, but Ashri turns and looks at him, stopping his thoughts in an instant.

Her serene almond-shaped eyes are pools of dark chocolate he could easily drown himself in. He’s drawn into them…into her. And he suddenly feels very warm and content. There’s something about her, something he hasn’t seen in _so_ long. He’s been around beautiful women before, in fact, he works closely with two of them, but this…

She catches him watching her and drops her gaze shyly. John is intrigued by the sudden blush that creeps up over her neck and cheeks. He licks his dry lips thinking of something witty to say. He tries to sit up, but the sharp pain in his chest and a gentle hand from Carson on his shoulder encourage him to remain lying down. “You’ve had a hard time of it, lad. Take it easy.” Carson grins at Ashri. “Now be gentle, love. He’s fragile.” Then with a wicked smirk to John, he leaves them alone.

“Wh--” John looks after Carson then quickly shifts his attention to Ashri. “I…I’m not fragile,” he says, flashing his dimples.

Without a word, she moves over him, peeling back one side of the red hospital scrub shirt that’s been split down the middle and fastened with Velcro for easier access. _Thank God the PTB didn’t force them to bring along those demoralizing hospital gowns._ Ashri’s gentle hands pry up the bandage over his heart. Not even a hint of pain from pulled chest hair. _She must be an angel!_

He looks down and sees the nasty wound: a blackened spot over his heart the size of his fist. Ashri changes the bandage and presses fresh tape into place. Her delicate touch sends pleasant tingles through his body and not just in the naughty places either. He longs to look into those sweet chocolate eyes again. And maybe see a smile. Even a Mona Lisa smile. _Please?_

Still, she keeps her gaze evasive, even though she must feel his attention on her. His intrigue and, yes, attraction. Out of nowhere, he remembers one of his exes remarking about his amorous gazes. She always knew what he wanted when he flashed his _dangerous_ look her way.

And then he remembers the quick glimpse of Ashri’s eyes; of what he saw in them. It’s been so long he almost didn’t recognize it. Too many years in the service had turned him into a cynic. Well, not a complete one…he _did_ see it.

Her attention shifts to the bandage on his forehead. He tries to catch her gaze, but she dodges him. Her cheeks still hold a bit of the pink from the earlier blush and she catches her bottom lip with her teeth. John can also see a slight tremor in her hands as she raises them to tend to his wound and the description of his ‘dangerous’ look returns instantly to mind.

“Don’t be afraid of me,” he says in the sincerest voice possible. This gets her attention and her eyes lock onto his. Again he sees the most beautiful sight imaginable, not just her face or her eyes or even the slight…yes, very slight, shy smile she offers him in response that makes his belly flutter. No, he sees her.

The epitome of complete and utter innocence.

She holds his gaze this time. Her smile grows a tiny bit and he hears her melodic voice, but swears her mouth doesn’t move. “Be still,” she says without actually speaking and passes her right hand over his eyes—a subdued white light beams into his eyes or from behind them, he can’t be sure. And he feels warm and tingly all over.

 

~~~

John blinks away Carson’s pen-light and jerks awake, sitting up fast and instantly regretting it, he drops back against the pillows, looking around, seeing Teyla, Ford, Elizabeth and McKay—eating a power bar—surrounding the infirmary bed.

“Hello, Major,” Carson drawls. “Glad ya could finally join us, lad.”

“What the--”

“We were worried,” Teyla says placing her hand on his shoulder.

“Good to have you back,” Elizabeth adds from the foot of the bed. She tries to keep her face neutral, but he can see the relief sparkling in her green eyes. John feels a surge of protectiveness for her. He knows how much she relies on his presence. The weight of command can be overpowering and though he has no delusions about Elizabeth’s abilities, she’s only human and needs support; whether she asks for it or not.

McKay, on the other hand, has one arm across his chest, supporting the other arm feeding his face. “I wasn’t worried. Too much stress in that.”

John grimaces at the scientist, but knows full-well if the guy didn’t care at least a bit, he wouldn’t be here now. “What happened?” John asks.

“You were hit by lightning,” Carson says. “And, well, you died.”

“I died?”

Carson presses his lips together and nods. “Technically. Only for a few minutes, though lad. You’re fine now.”

Ford stands between Teyla and Elizabeth. “We got back to you as soon as we could.” The kid looks tired, but grins as usual.

“You’ve been unconscious about a week now,” Carson adds.

“You said that the last time.”

Carson’s brows crease. “Last time?”

“Yeah,” John starts. “I woke up and you left that nurse…Ashri--”

Carson’s confusion is evident as his eyes dart from John to the others then back to John. He shakes his head. “This is the first time you’ve been awake, Major. And, I don’t have a nurse by that name.”

“The brunette, who has a thing for McKay.”

McKay leans in, forgetting his Power Bar halfway to his mouth. “A brunette. There’s a brunette? How come no one told me there was a brunette?”

“Well, she’s more rav…it was his theory,” John points at Carson. “I didn’t buy it for a second. Way outta your league.”

McKay lets loose one of his sarcastic huffs and says, “She doesn’t exist, Major, how can she _possibly_ be out of my league?”

John knows she was there. He _knows_ it. Almost to himself, he says, “She was changing my bandage--” He touches his forehead; the bandage is gone and he doesn’t find an injury. This doesn’t make any sense. He _felt_ her touch.

Carson moves in and pulls John’s red shirt open and the _zzzp_ of the Velcro echoes in John’s ears. _Was it all a dream? Did he simply make up this amazingly beautiful woman out of thin air?_

Carson’s fingering the bandage on John’s chest. “It does look like it needs a change. Hold still, Major.” And Carson grips the edge of the bandage and rips away before John can stop him.

“Owwwyou’rethedevil!” John howls as a yellowish-white light flashes in his eyes.

 

~~~

Sunshine from the windows and the blue light from the event horizon dance on the gate room ceiling as the room spins into view. John’s lying flat on his back trying to force his mind to focus. From out of his line of sight Teyla leans over, wearing full gear, and looks down at him. “Are you all right, Major?”

In another direction, John hears Ford’s voice, but can’t see him. “Medical emergency in the gate room.” Followed by McKay’s irritated: “Shut it down, we’re not going.”

John sits up, clutching his chest as the gate turns off behind him. He’s dressed in full gear also, as are Ford and McKay. He raises his eyes to look at the others. In front of him, Elizabeth hurries down the stairs looking less than thrilled. “Take it easy, Major.”

“I’m fine.”

“I’d like Dr. Beckett to see about that,” Elizabeth says, crossing her arms over her chest.

John gets to his feet as Carson arrives with Ashri. At the sight of her, he’s taken aback and pauses, glancing at everyone then taking a step towards the nurse. She backs away, slightly behind Carson. “Who are you?” he asks.

“Major?” Elizabeth steps forward, protectively. “Ashri’s an important member of our team. She’s been here since the beginning.”

John looks to Carson. “I thought you said you didn’t know her.”

“When did I say that?”

“Just a…. In the infirmary…after 446.”

McKay pulls out a small packet of cookies from his vest pocket. “Planet Luminance? That was two years ago.” He shakes the bag then pulls the top seam apart and pours the contents into his mouth.

John stares at them. _I’m surrounded by lunatics!_

His gaze drifts and catches sight of Ashri again, still keeping her distance, but watching him with intense, compassionate eyes. He sees the spark of innocence in her, but now there’s something else…something older: a bit of wisdom…or understanding even. And though she’s keeping her distance, possibly even afraid of him, she’s not looking away this time. Not blushing.

Even as the others speak, her gaze never leaves his and he can’t bring himself to look away. The others talk around him as if he’s not there. Not that he wants to be. He wants to be alone with Ashri, find out who she is. Why she affects him this way.

“It’s happening again,” Elizabeth says; concern evident in her tone.

“We all knew memory could be affected,” Carson offers.

“He should be resting,” Ford adds.

“He cannot always be valiant, though he feels he must,” Teyla says.

“He’s doing this to himself,” McKay whines.

“He needs to heal,” Elizabeth says.

“He needs you all to stop yammering!” John growls; finally breaking contact with Ashri.

Ford flicks his hand in the air. “Now look, you’ve upset him. Happy McKay?”

“Oh, please,” McKay starts. “You’re all just making it up as you go along. Trying to make him feel more comfortable.”

As one, the others turn toward John and start talking to him all at once.

Elizabeth asks, “Is it working?”

Teyla gently touches his arm. “Are you comfortable?”

Carson takes a step forward. “Do you need to lie down?”

Ford’s all smiles. “Would you like a pillow?”

John shakes his head. “Who _are_ you people?” He raises a brow and waggles his finger. “Is this your way of telling me we never left that misty planet?”

“If you recall,” McKay says, crunching cookies and flicking crumbs off his vest. “That wasn’t really a mist.”

Teyla takes her hand from his arm. “Major, don’t you know where you are?”

As John turns to reply to Teyla, all the lights go out, including the sun.

 

~~~

Pitch black. He can’t even see his hand in front of his face. He’s concerned about moving, more than likely he’ll bump into something and break a toe, or worse. He might not even be in the same room as before.

Ever so slowly, blessed blue lights rise around the gatrium stairs and Stargate. John looks around for the others, but they’re gone. He’s alone, standing in the same spot. The entire place looks and sounds deserted. John reaches for his headset…but it’s not there. He looks down and sees his clothes are different. _Very_ different. He’s wearing black slacks and a white dress shirt with an undone bow–tie draped around his open collar; basically a disheveled tux. Someone’s gonna answer for this. _I hate monkey suits!_

A delicate hand touches his shoulder from behind. John turns, finding a stunning Ashri gazing up at him. She’s wearing an elegant silver dress that glimmers in the blue light. Somewhere in the air, familiar romantic music begins to play.

John gently pulls her into his embrace and they start to slowly dance. She seems to know how. He holds her right hand in his, close to his chest and gazes into her lovely face. After a few moments, realization settles and he remembers. “Same music, same dress.” He raises an amused brow. “Different date, though.”

He dips her dramatically, eyes glued to hers. “You didn’t go to _my_ high school.” He pulls her back up and holds her close. The warmth of her body against his is invigorating and pleasantly distracting; her curves meld easily against his form, as if the empty space has always been waiting for her. John never wants to let her go. He wants to explore every part of her with every part of himself. Even as he asks the question, he doesn’t really care about the answer as long as she stays with him. “Who are you, really?”

Ashri doesn’t pull her gaze from his, even though he knows he’s still looking at her as he did the first time: hungrily devouring her with his eyes. As several R-rated scenarios flicker through his mind in quick succession— _and maybe a couple NC-17’s as well_ —John sees the innocence return and he mentally kicks himself for his doggish thoughts.

Ashri flattens her right hand over his heart. A soft, golden glow emanates from her palm, it tingles and he chuckles deep in his throat. He places his hand over hers and the glow fades. “Are you messing with me?” He asks and she looks at him quizzically. “You know,” he says. “Messing with my head. Playing with my memories?”

Her eyes widen in shock and she shakes her head ‘no’. Well at least he knows she can understand him. Even if she doesn’t talk. Maybe he could get some info out of her by playing twenty questions. It’s not like he’s eager to be pulled out of her arms.

She smiles suddenly and his heart nearly bursts from his chest. She’s too beautiful for words. It’s taking all his strength to contain his desires. She’s so unlike any other woman he’s ever met. He can see it in her eyes, there are no games, no manipulations, no lies…just complete trust and…

_Ohmygod!_

John never thought it possible. Even his parents never looked at him this way, though they swore differently. It’s against human nature. People always place limitations or restrictions on their feelings. People have _rules_.

When Ashri gazes up at him, the feelings she expresses touch him so deeply he can barely breathe. He’s only felt it one time before: when he was thirteen.

Neighbors, kids, even his parents made fun of him. His mom told him he was obsessed. His dad wanted him to see a shrink, but couldn’t force the issue (not on military wages). John had fallen head over heels in love with Sheba. Not romantically, but _unconditionally_ …without boundaries or qualifications.

He swore he’d do anything for her and he knew, in his heart, that his love was returned fully. He knew then that there were such things as souls and he’d found one to match his own. And Sheba loved him to the day she died.

She was six weeks old when he found her laying in the gutter. She looked up at him with big blue eyes and without a sound, begged him to take her home. He hid her for a good month before she started quietly barking and his parents found out. By then she’d gained a good deal of weight and started looking like the champion Black Labrador she’d been meant to be all along. She too had been beyond beautiful. Her solid black form looked nearly blue in the light, and her blue eyes, such an odd color for Labs, held so much _knowledge_ and understanding. John felt awed and gifted to be near her every day.

Nine years later, just before he was to join the Air Force, Sheba’s broken heart nearly killed him. John truly believed part of him died that day. Sheba had a congenital heart problem that didn’t come to light until it was too late. She hung on for that final year, taking her meds, going to the vet, whatever it took, she did it without complaint, without a whimper…for him. John knew it sounded crazy—at the time he refused to admit it to himself, let alone anyone else—but deep down, he knew. She stayed with him until he was ready to say goodbye. And when he did, she left peacefully, in her sleep.

Unconditional love. The stuff of poems, songs and the linked hearts of a thirteen year-old boy and his dog.

But not reality. Not from one person to another.

John’s heart swells at the thought that Ashri loves him like that. How could he not want someone to look at him with so much trust and understanding? Someone who would never judge his actions, who would never condemn him for anything. A woman who could know every part of him: good, bad and ugly; and still love him completely. How could he not respond in kind?

 _Because_ , he chides himself, _you don’t know this girl. She doesn’t really know you. You can’t possibly have any feelings for her, other than the simple physical. It’s infatuation, man! Plain and simple._

He’s reading her wrong. Ashri’s hiding something from him, playing him…somehow. She has to be. Doesn’t she?

And yet when he looks into those luscious brown eyes…

John’s voice comes out as a gravelly whisper. “Are you real?” He gently traces a finger down her amazingly smooth cheek. “Or a dream?” She’s a gravity well pulling him in without any means of escape. And he doesn’t care.

John lifts her chin and leans in for a soft kiss which she welcomes. Her supple lips move under his. It’s the tamest and yet most sensual kiss he’s ever known.

As before, Ashri’s whispered voice floats in the air. “John…wake up.”


	2. Isolation

** DAY 7 **

Ford, Teyla, Elizabeth, Peter and Rodney stand around the Control Room in a misshaped circle. They’ve been avoiding the conference room for days now. Elizabeth’s perch remains the same with every meeting, the small balcony overlooking the gate room. She only occasionally looks directly at anyone; most of the time, her eyes pick a spot on the floor and lock onto it. When they first converged for the meeting, Rodney noticed Elizabeth’s red-rimmed eyes had sunken within dark circles. As usual, she has her arms crossed tightly over her chest as if she’s cold.

“It has been a week and we still have nothing,” Teyla says almost angrily. She looks even more weary and haggard than Elizabeth, not something Rodney is used to seeing in the Athosian woman. “Could lightning have damaged or destroyed the other gate?”

Rodney shakes his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. He’s been up for days trying to figure out what’s wrong and the only thing keeping him up right now is the control board he’s leaning his butt against. He rubs his hands over his face, noting the stubble and realizes he probably shouldn’t be judging Teyla’s appearance or anyone else’s for that matter. “Not possible,” he snaps. “Naquadah can absorb massive amounts of energy. In fact, SG–1 once used a lightning strike to dial Earth’s coordinates. The DHD, on the other hand--”

“Would not survive a direct hit,” Elizabeth finishes. She looks up from the floor and her gaze locks with Rodney’s. The full meaning of her words hits home: _neither would Sheppard._

“He’s fine,” Rodney says forcefully. “We just need to get him back here.”

Before dropping her gaze to the floor again, Rodney catches sight of unshed tears hovering in Elizabeth’s eyes. He not only wonders when she last slept, but also if he misread her relationship with the Major. Rodney believed them to be simply friends…

“The DHD only affects an outgoing wormhole, correct?” Teyla asks.

“That’s correct,” Peter says. “Our problem is we can’t dial any other coordinates. _Our_ system is malfunctioning.”

“Why?” Elizabeth asks quietly.

“Perhaps a power burst or overload of some kind,” Peter says.

“Like a short,” Elizabeth offers, this time looking at Peter. “A blown fuse.”

Peter nods. “Exactly.”

“Unfortunately,” McKay starts, talking fast as usual. “We have no way of knowing what a blown “ancient” fuse looks like. And even if we manage to find it, we can’t run out to the local Radio Shack for a replacement.”

“So, what can we do?” Ford finally speaks up. He’s been uncharacteristically silent for the past week and like the others, probably hasn’t had a wink of sleep. Rodney thinks the poor kid looks like death on two legs.

Ford and Teyla have spent much time together, in silence, Rodney assumes, since every time he’s come across them, whether in the corridors or the mess hall, neither is speaking, they’re both simply staring into space, mirroring each other’s worried expressions.

“All we can do is keep trying,” Rodney says at last.

Elizabeth turns away from them and looks down at the dormant Stargate. She hugs herself closer and shivers a bit before turning back to them. She locks eyes with Rodney. “I think you need some rest, Dr. McKay.”

“What?”

“I want you to get some sleep.”

Rodney huffs. “Are you kidding?”

Elizabeth shakes her head. “I can’t have you getting sick with exhaustion. Not now. That goes for all of you.”

Teyla steps over to Elizabeth and briefly touches her arm. “You’re not giving up?”

After a long moment, Elizabeth lifts her head higher. “No. If Major Sheppard survived the lightning strike, he’s quite resourceful and can take care of himself for the short term.” She looks at the floor again. “If he didn’t…” she trails off with another shake of her head. After some more silence she looks up again. “Get some sleep. That’s an order.” Then she walks out, leaving all of them to stare after her.

  
~~~

John opens his eyes slowly, dragging himself out of the dream realm. As his gaze begins to focus, his mind whirls at the sensual tingle traveling the length of his body. He can feel his toes buzzing. _How weird is that?_ This is no pins and needles pain, this is… _cool._

Not wanting to break the spell and lose this unimaginably pleasant feeling, John holds his body still, only letting his eyes take in his surroundings. A diffused golden light exposes a very low, polished ceiling. It looks like beige marble. His gaze lazily drifts right, seeing the top of a wall made of the same material but also draped with a maroonish colored fabric as a kind of decoration. The marble looks familiar and he remembers seeing…the pillars around the Stargate on 446.

Taking stock of his situation, John realizes he’s lying on his back, pillows and a soft mattress under him and a heavy quilt pulled up to his waist. Though shirtless, he’s warm and comfortable. His brain’s foggy on how he got here; he could swear he was just dancing and kissing…John blinks slowly, relishing the memory of that tender kiss.

When he opens his eyes, he sees Ashri kneeling to his left—obviously the padding is on the floor, not an actual bed—eyes closed, brow furrowed as her right palm hovers over his heart. A soft orange glow, similar to the light in the room but a bit more focused, emanates from her palm. He figures she’s the reason his body feels so wonderful.

Beyond her, passed his feet there’s a large opening with nothing but darkness in the distance. John studies the space he’s in, thinking it looks more like a small cave or den than a room. Ashri doesn’t seem to notice he’s awake and John takes a moment to drink in the sight of her, in reality. If this is reality. He thinks about that for a second, notices he’s hungry and thirsty. Seems real enough.

Though loathe to disrupt the amazing tingles, John says, “Hi.” His gravelly voice and the dryness of his throat shock him. It feels like he hasn’t spoken in weeks.

Ashri abruptly looks up, her eyes wide and startled. With a sigh, she flashes a relieved smile that makes her eyes glisten and twinkle. The glow from her palm fades as she moves her hand to stroke his forehead—revealing an angry, but healing, fist-size burn on his chest.

Her touch sends a pleasant flutter through his belly as she brushes fingers into his hair. Her feelings for him are evident in her expression. So much emotion floods from her that John swears it speeds up his heart. He’s never known a woman to look at him with so much devotion; it’s breathtaking…and a bit scary.

Okay, so he’s been out of the dating scene a while now; doesn’t mean he’s desperate for some crazed stalker chic…John shakes off the thought, trying to bury the cynic again. He smiles up at Ashri, trying to determine her actual age. Again he’s struck with the innocence inside her, the openness in her eyes. She doesn’t have a single shield, no walls in place, not a hint of skepticism. Everything she has, she’s offering to him in that loving gaze.

She’s not a child, however; that much is clear. Her dark hair is pulled back as it was in his dream, but now he can see faint strands of premature white at the left temple. There are ever so slight wrinkles at the corners of her eyes and almost imperceptible smile lines around her mouth. John estimates she’s closer to his age than he previously thought; possibly early to mid-thirties. There are no scars or freckles that he can see in this light, but isn’t that the point of candlelight? Her porcelain skin begs for his tender caresses.

_Damn, look at me! Five months ago I would have been going all kinds of crazy seeing a woman from my dreams with a glowy hand checking me out like this. What a difference a Stargate makes!_

John smiles, reaches up to take her right hand so he can kiss her miraculous palm. She tries to slip away from his grasp, but not soon enough for John to miss what she wants to hide. His heart thuds painfully in his chest and his stomach flops. He grabs her wrist hard, pulling her closer, twisting her arm and making her wince as he forces her palm into view.

The look of horror in her eyes is nothing compared to the betrayal John feels. He’s dizzy and sick to his stomach. Ashri’s palm looks like a Wraith's!

Heaving a disgusted grunt: “Get the hell away from me!” John shoves her with more strength than he realizes he has. The room is tiny, a small nook if anything and Ashri falls back and smacks into the stone wall. Holding her wrist with her other hand, fear and hurt wash over her face as tears drip from her eyes. Ashri rushes out through the opening and vanishes into the darkness beyond.

John presses his hand to his chest, sighing with relief that the wound isn’t worse. He slowly raises himself to his elbows. His body aches, like he’s had a really heavy work-out, but otherwise he feels…okay. His head reminds him of a nasty hangover and all his muscles burn, but nothing he can’t push to the back of his mind. He checks his injury. His brows crease with confusion. It’s a burn mark, not a left-over scar from a life-sucking Wraith hand.

_Where’s Rodney? Ford? Teyla? Did they just leave me here?_

John sighs. This is bad. Ashri doesn’t look like the usual Wraith. She looks human! She _felt_ human when he held her in his arms. _But that was just a dream_ , he reminds himself. John rubs a hand over his face, feeling the stubble on his chin and neck. The beard’s at least a week’s worth. So why hasn’t someone from Atlantis come for him yet? Where’s his team?

He saw Teyla go through the gate and McKay and Ford weren’t far behind. He’d been right behind them, not a yard away, and then…John sits up, pushing some squishy pillows with silky material behind him. He can’t remember seeing either McKay or Ford go through the event horizon. In fact, his memory suddenly, uneventfully ends with blackness. A lot of it actually. Then the fuzziness of the dreams. He remembers those as if he’d really been there.

Pushing the images aside, John checks out the nook. With its claustrophobic, slightly rounded walls and ceiling, maybe a 10x10 space all around with the bedding in the center, it kind of reminds him of the bottle on “I Dream of Jeanie”; though with less pink and purple. Still, it’s quite lush with the richly colored silken fabrics loosely draped along the walls and golden lighting from numerous candles in colorful small jars: some clear and others opaque like stone. The quilt covering him even looks handmade. If he didn’t know better, John would swear Ashri had a subscription to Bedrooms By Design…he’d seen it on the shelf once at Home Depot.

_So where’s all the Wraith crap? The webbed doors and dreary colors? The guys with no faces and really bad white hair?_

Not much of a cell given that there’s a great big open wall; all that’s missing is the bright green ‘exit’ sign. And over to his right, within arms reach, there’s a small board—or miniature table with three inch legs—filled with delicious looking goodies. A silver cup and a mismatched stone pitcher are nearest. Beyond that there’s a bowl of what looks like exotic fruit and vegetables.

John picks up the cup—lightweight and reminiscent of pewter—there’s some liquid in it. He sniffs the drink then takes a sip: water. He gulps down the rest then picks up the pitcher with his right arm, feeling a bit weak in the left, and sloppily drinks straight from the big jug. It tastes like heaven.

As he’s drinking, enormously refreshed and energized, realization smacks him in the face. He can feel the fire of embarrassment burning his cheeks and ears; his heart thumps painfully in his chest. Just as Carson told him in that first dream, Ashri’s been taking grand care of him.

And as a thank you, he nearly broke her arm…and probably _did_ break her heart.

Looking beyond the nook, John tries to see her in the darkness, but only a wall of blackness greets him. He needs to apologize and—surprising himself—really wants to, but that’ll mean getting up and looking around a strange place...without his team…or his gun—which he doesn’t see anywhere. He would much rather stay warm and comfy right where he is.

Still…the look on her face burns in his mind. The pain…the anguish…he felt that kind of pain before. He’d never wish it on anyone, well maybe a real Wraith, but John doesn’t believe they actually _have_ feelings to hurt.

No matter what, who or whatever she is, Ashri’s been good to him. She deserves some groveling. Hell, she deserves _a lot_ of groveling and a big fat apology; probably a nice bouquet of roses and some chocolates too. But all John has to offer is the groveling and apology, so he might as well get to it.

He tosses aside the quilt, only then seeing he’s quite naked. “Well, this could be a problem.”

  
~~~

McKay’s under the console as Elizabeth comes in. “I gave you an order, Rodney.”

“Yeah, I’m disobeying.” He stops working long enough to catch her gaze. “I can’t sleep anyway. Can you?”

Elizabeth shakes her head and heaves a sigh. Any time she closes her eyes, even briefly, an image of Sheppard getting hit by lightning and falling into a pond plays in her mind on a continuous loop. She didn’t have to be there, McKay’s description was clear enough.

The whole city seems to have fallen quiet with mourning. Teyla and Ford have not spoken out loud, but they have given up hope. But part of her can’t let go. Without McKay’s unending guarantees, she would have tried to say goodbye to John days ago. She would have cried and mourned her lost friend then gone on to suffer through the bigger picture.

The Stargate doesn’t work. They are cut off from everything, except the mainland. They have limited power from the generators and no chance of making it to the Alpha Site should the Wraith decide to attack at any moment.

No. Elizabeth hasn’t slept in a while. She still has hope. “So, any news, Rodney?”

“E equals MC squared.”

“Anything recent?”

McKay raises himself onto one elbow. “There’s a couple centuries of dust bunnies under here.”

Elizabeth hugs herself and closes her eyes tight, fending off another round of the chills and a headache. She doesn’t have the stomach or patience for casual banter. “Rodney!”

“Look!” McKay’s voice cracks as he rambles quickly. “You should know by now my sarcasm is nothing more than a defense mechanism to avoid discussing distressful topics and/or giving bad news.” This sudden outburst and flurry of words is actually a welcome change for Elizabeth. It’s what he adds that just might break her heart. “I can’t find anything wrong with it.”

Elizabeth hangs her head, feeling the pounding at the base of her skull increase ten fold. But McKay’s still talking and she needs to pay attention. She looks at him again. “Not only that, we’re getting a drain on the other systems as well. We’re losing power.”

This is not what she wants to hear. Without power, they’ll be dead in the water. Elizabeth sighs. “Okay, let’s take a step back. What do the systems have in common?”

“Aside from keeping Atlantis functioning? They’re all…”

He stops suddenly and Elizabeth raises a brow, waiting. Something in McKay’s demeanor changes, there’s even a hint…just a hint of a smile. No not a smile, a grimace. But she’s seen this look before. It’s what she considers his ‘light bulb moment’. Something has occurred to him that he hasn’t thought of before. Usually Elizabeth would become very weary of that look, but today it makes her heart beat just a bit faster. “Yes?”

“Electrical. In theory. The Ancient technology is--”

Dr. Carson interrupts over the intercom. He’s gone city-wide instead of using the headset which instantly puts Elizabeth on alert. “Doctors Weir and McKay to the infirmary. Doctors Weir and McKay report to the infirmary immediately.”

Elizabeth locks eyes with McKay then spins on her toes and heads out. She can hear him scrambling up after her.

  
~~~

With the quilt wrapped around his waist, gripped closed with one fist and carrying a single small candle in his other hand, John makes his way down a couple of steps from the nook and into the dark cavern. He can tell it’s big, by the sound of it. Besides that it simply feels huge.

Something brushes by John’s face, a brief wisp of feathers on his nose. The wake of the bird, or whatever it was, sways the flame of the candle. John looks up, seeing only darkness, but knows there’s more than one creature living overhead. He can hear the clicking of claws and the flap of wings.

His bare feet are assaulted next, by a warm fuzziness that vanishes the moment he looks down. _Okay, birds eat mice…that’s a good thing._ Not that he knows if this place has either, but it makes him feel better to be able to relate to something around here. As he steps forward, John discovers floor to ceiling pillars—reminiscent of ancient Greece—by almost running face first into them since he doesn’t have any extra feelers; unlike the others in this dwelling.

As he first left the nook, he caught sight of some elaborate artwork on the wall to his right and an image of that young anthropologist popped into his head. That kid would love to see this place. Moving cautiously forward, or more to the point keeping the ever dwindling light from the nook at his back, he stumbles into a chair and stubs his big toe. John cringes at the pain, but keeps his cool. A rustling noise overhead pulls his attention and he hears a definitive, “Whooo.” He shrugs. _Owls are cool._

The sound of water pulls his attention to the left and he turns, raising the candle. A few feet away, there’s a pond of black tar. Or at least in the miniscule light it seems that way, though a glimmer of memory nips at the back of his mind. He tries to reach for the thought, but it vanishes.

Stepping away from the table, he holds the candle out and sees ripples in the water. Moments later, a few bubbles break the surface, followed by Ashri. John can only see the right side of her face as she stands in profile with the water up to her shoulders. She wipes her hands over her face and slicked-back hair, then hangs her head a bit and sighs sadly.

Unconsciously, John takes a step back, feeling like he’s intruding. He almost turns to go into the nook, but suddenly, she’s rising sleek and wet from the depths. And _ohmygod…she’s naked, very naked…exceptionally naked…and her long, wet hair is clinging to all her curves…oh man, I_ did not _do her justice in the fantasy department!_ And she keeps coming… _and I’m all naked!_

John gushes a sigh that extinguishes his candle, but the dim light from the far away nook is more than enough to see by now. As X-rated thoughts flash through his mind, John’s frozen in place, wide-eyed as his Lady Godiva glides out of the water. Oh, she’s _definitely_ human!

His body betrays him, reacting to this erotic vision in an instant. His mouth dries as his breathing becomes shallow. He grips the quilt even tighter and nearly loses his hold on the flameless candle when she steps completely out of the water, glistening all over.

Ashri doesn’t look at him, if she even knows he’s there. But she must know; he’s standing in silhouette against the only available light, gaping like a fool. She doesn’t acknowledge him, however; instead, turning her back to him to retrieve a heavy white wrap from the boulder-lined edge of the pond. She slips into it after ever so slowly pulling her hair aside, exposing her flesh without a hint of embarrassment. John’s breath catches and he bites down on his lower lip to contain a heated groan.

But as she closes the robe around her, hiding her luscious form from his greedy eyes, a disappointed whimper does escape John’s throat, completely beyond his control. He’s transfixed by her, his feet pretty much stuck in concrete and he can only stare as she sits in the chair farthest away from him at the other end of the long table and ever so sensuously pulls her wet hair over her left shoulder exposing her long graceful neck.

John’s fingers ache to touch that silky skin. To kiss that curve of her spine.

Keeping her back to him, Ashri twists her hair, ringing out excess water. A puddle forms below the chair and with every drip, John’s grip on his quilt weakens. _Icicles, hockey, rain…_ He’s trying to imagine anything…everything to get his mind off the burning desire pumping through his blood. _Ice cream…licking the ice cream off her supple—stop it!_ He shakes off the images… _remember the palm! Remember!_ She’s at least _part_ Wraith!

After several moments of painful silence, John regains control of his brain, perhaps not fully functioning, but he clears his throat and manages to find his voice. “Uh…Hi. Remember me? The jackass from before.”

Ashri doesn’t stop what she’s doing, doesn’t turn or give a hint that she’s heard him.

“Look…” John continues, licking his dry lips. “I’m sorry about what happened. Really. Really sorry. It’s not personal.” _Oh, that’s good…way to make her feel better. Good job, John. No wonder you’re still single._

His feet seem to be under his control again so he takes a couple of steps toward her. “I don’t want to sound ungrateful for the hospitality and all…but…could I have my pants?”

Ashri’s hands stop moving over her hair. After a moment, John sees her hang her head, like she did in the water. He’s afraid he said something to hurt her again, but doesn’t know what else to do. He can’t walk around here naked.

_Sure you can._

_No. It’s not gonna happen._ No matter what, he needs his clothes.

John’s about to move closer to her and ask again when a soft orange glow rises in the four corners of the enormous cavern. John looks around, but can’t see exactly where the light is coming from. Not that it matters because within moments, the cavern walls are energized with a familiar pale blue light. One he’s seen before…in the control chair of Antarctica. The golden glow fades leaving the bluish light within the walls, revealing an elaborate, Ancient-made temple. For a moment, John can swear he’s back in Antarctica, only warmer and…naked.

“Wow. Did you just...” He looks around the giant open space; finally seeing the glowing eyes of the whooter perched on a rafter way, way up and finds he’s once again a mouth-gaping fool. “This is cool.”

John turns in a slow circle, taking in everything he can about the place. It reminds him of the church cathedrals from history books, except no windows…that’s a bit odd. And of course, no church he’s been in has glowing walls.

It’s the other residents who give him pause, however. McKay and Beckett would go nuts seeing all the birds perching up on the rafters, some of them mortal enemies, but seemingly oblivious to that fact. And…is that a cat? John squints, eyeing the prospective feline lounging up high with all the birds, its tail playfully flapping at one in particular…the owl!

Feeling a crick in his neck and his jaw muscles tightening due to his mouth simply hanging open, John pulls his attention back down to eye level. Did he really see that correctly? Did Ashri actually turn on the lights…just by thinking about it? And if this is a temple built by the Ancients, and she can control it, then that must mean…she has the gene! Which means, she can’t be a Wraith…right?

John sees his clothes neatly folded on the end of the table nearest to him, his hand gun on top, boots and P-90 on the floor. As he reaches for the clothes, Ashri stands up and walks quickly to the right of the cavern, obviously trying to give him some space so he can get dressed. Again, John feels the need to apologize. She’s going out of her way to make him comfortable.

Without a backward glance, Ashri goes up to the far right wall opposite the pond and walks _through_ it! John stumbles and nearly falls over as he pulls on his boxers.

  
~~~

Elizabeth stomps through the infirmary door with McKay right on her heels and she nearly tramples on an unconscious Lt. Ford lying a few feet inside. In his hurry to keep up, McKay bumps into her shoulder. “Sorry.”

Waving him off, Elizabeth kneels and checks on Ford. She finds his pulse. “Dr. Beckett?”

“Aye. Sorry, ‘bout that, Dr. Weir.” Elizabeth looks up, seeing Carson place an oxygen mask on an unconscious Teyla.

“What’s wrong?” Elizabeth asks.

Carson leaves Teyla’s side, motions to McKay and the two of them lift Ford onto another bed. “Lt. Ford brought Teyla in a few moments ago. He said one moment she was talking to him, the next she simply dropped in the corridor without warning. As soon as we got her on the bed, he collapsed.” Carson puts a mask on Ford as well.

A nurse takes Teyla’s temperature with an ear monitor. “Hundred–three point two.”

“That can’t be right,” McKay says, brow creasing with worry.

Carson listens to Teyla’s chest with a stethoscope. “Heartbeat’s slowing. Bradycardia. And look at this.” He lifts her hand, the fingertips are bluish.

The nurse checks Ford’s temp and hands. “Same. Even the fingers.”

“What the hell’s going on here?” If she doesn’t get some answers soon, Elizabeth isn’t beyond hurting someone. “Carson?”

“Sorry, Dr. Weir. Just a moment please.” He turns to the nurse. “Continuous O2, saline I.V. and EKG. Get started on the blood work.” The nurse nods and gets to work as Carson turns to Elizabeth and McKay. “When Lt. Ford first brought Teyla in, I thought it was fatigue. The poor lass was having a rough time of it with…the Major missing.”

Elizabeth blinks heavily. She and Teyla share that problem. Perhaps the two of them should have tried to comfort each other, but she didn’t feel comfortable with that idea. Elizabeth didn’t begrudge John female companionship, in fact, she couldn’t think of a better match for him; but at the same time, the constant rumors around the city—not to mention Bates’ continuous innuendo—tightened a knot of jealousy in her gut. Not that she had romantic inklings about her and Major Sheppard. No, she has Simon…she plans on getting back to him someday. Perhaps jealousy isn’t the right word…not that it matters now. Lost in her thoughts, she almost misses what Carson’s saying.

“Then when I saw the Lieutenant drop, I realized it had to be something else.”

“Such as?” McKay asks.

“I believe we’re seeing some sort of bacteria or viral infection.”

“Infection?” Elizabeth and McKay say at the same time.

“Aye. And it’s nothing like I’ve seen before. At first blush it looks similar to sleep depravation: sunken eyes, weight loss…”

McKay snaps his fingers. “I thought Teyla looked a bit…drawn today. Ford too.”

“Aye,” Carson says. “I saw them in the mess the other day then again for breakfast this morning. They both looked a wreck, but when I asked they simply told me they were tired. I ordered them to get rest.”

“You didn’t call them in for a check up?” Elizabeth can’t believe Carson could be so neglectful.

“They were supposed to see me this afternoon, but neither showed. I believed they were taking my advice and getting some much needed sleep. Then suddenly here they are.”

Elizabeth feels a fiery ball of fury seeping through her body, leaving her quaking slightly. She can’t lose anyone else. She can’t! “Carson, what are we looking at here?”

Shaking his head, Carson makes an uncertain face. “I can’t tell you that, yet.”

That’s not what she wants to hear. “Is this something they got on planet Luminance?”

McKay narrowed his eyes. “Nonononono…we were all checked out--”

Carson raises a hand. “All three were cleared, Dr. Weir.”

Elizabeth arches a brow. “Is anyone else sick? Maybe someone they both came in contact with upon returning to Atlantis?”

“Not that I’m aware of. Dr. McKay how are you?”

“Fine.”

Elizabeth scrutinizes him. “You’re sure.” And Carson sticks the temperature reader in McKay’s ear until it beeps.

McKay waves Carson away. “I said I’m fine.”

Elizabeth wants other doctor’s opinion. “Normal.”

“Then I don’t understand. If only Lt. Ford and Teyla are ill…”

Carson crosses his arms over his chest. “We’ll need to check everyone. At least make a city-wide announcement giving the symptoms: high fever, sudden weigh loss, blue tinge to lips, fingers or toes. I just hope we don’t get overrun with hypochondriacs. No offense, Rodney.”

McKay glares at Carson. Elizabeth nods. “I’ll be clear.”

“What if no one else is sick and it’s just Ford and Teyla?” McKay asks.

Carson shrugs. “That’ll at least narrow it down a bit. We’ll have to track their movements, food in take…have either been to the mainland this week?”

“No. Teyla’s…no.” Elizabeth says, not feeling the need to elaborate. “And Lt. Ford’s been working with Dr. Zelenka and McKay.”

“How’s Radek?”

McKay shrugs. “Haven’t seen him since yesterday.”

Carson nods. “Very well. Let’s get him in here first thing. Then if it turns out that only these two are ill, we’ll have to assume they did catch something on the last mission. Something that slipped by the usual return tests.”

“I hope that’s not the case, doctor.” Elizabeth says somberly.

“Aye. Without access to the planet, we’d have a difficult time finding any kind of cure.”

  
~~~

John’s strapping on his leg holster, nearly dressed when the energy in the walls starts to fade. Only a couple minutes have passed since Ashri disappeared through the wall. He grabs his shirt, noticing a recent patched-up hole on the front left side that matches exactly with the burn mark on his chest. When he pulls it on, he touches the spot and a faint memory of intense pain lashes at him from the depths of his mind. But he can’t deal with that now. The soldier in him knows he has to track down Ashri. She’s the one with answers he desperately needs.

He picks up his vest, finding another whole in the same spot as his shirt, but throws it on and clasps it into place anyway. Lastly, he pulls on his boots. Sitting at the table, he glances down at his P-90, he sees something’s not right with it. Done with the boots, he picks up the gun to inspect it, but the walls darken, leaving only the minimal light from the nook.

Enough of this. John pulls the flashlight off the P-90, picks up his hand gun and heads for the mystery wall. Standing in front of what looks like solid rock, not even part of the Ancient temple, but polished stone like inside the nook, John holds the flashlight between his teeth then presses his free hand against the rock…and his hand goes through.

Interesting. A hologram maybe?

As when he first walked through the Stargate, John takes a deep breath, closes his eyes and steps forward, arriving a second later inside a long passageway. Harsh, cold wind whips around him, slapping light drops of rain onto his face as the roar of a storm echoes in the tunnel. Cautiously moving forward, John sees flashes of white-hot light bouncing on the rock walls reminding him of a strobe light.

A few yards down, there’s an opening. Rain and thunder pound away at the planet outside as multiple lightning strikes hit the ground while more lightning spider-webs the night sky. It’s an electric free-for-all; like sticking a knife in a toaster.

Incredibly, John sees Ashri standing in the middle of a field, face skyward, letting the rain pummel her. Lightning flashes all around but—amazingly—she doesn’t flinch or get hit. John shoves the flashlight into his pocket.

The storm is exponentially worse than the day he and the others arrived. In the beginning, only a few sparks lit up the pastel sky, which McKay attributed to random static discharge. This planet’s atmosphere, as well as plant life diverged from that of Earth, something they’d not seen before. Still, McKay insisted it was safe enough for the time being and they set to explore an inconclusive power source. Nearly an hour later, the lightning storm seemed to be hunting them down and John called an immediate retreat.

With every flash of lightning, that memory of intense pain nips at his brain again and John actually forces himself not to flinch. Seeing Ashri standing out there in the middle of all the danger makes his stomach flip-flop. For a nano-second, he debates saving the obviously deranged woman, then grudgingly braces himself for the onslaught and runs to her. “Are you trying kill yourself?” he shouts over the storm.

Ashri lowers her head, looks at him with those enormous brown eyes, again exposing every emotion right to him. Surprisingly, he still sees the unconditional love in there. Even after the way he treated her. _That’s what makes it unconditional, idiot!_ But then her gaze drifts down to the gun in his grip. Closing her eyes, she lifts her face to the rain again.

John glances at the gun. Cursing like the military man he is, he clicks on the safety and shoves the gun into his thigh holster. Lightning slithers and strikes, getting closer to them every second and John once again has the distinct impression the lightning is actually seeking _him_ out.

No time for pleasantries. He grabs Ashri by the shoulders and gives her a good shake. “We’re both going inside. NOW!” Then he roughly turns and propels her toward the passageway.

Only then does John see that the passageway entrance and thus the cavern-temple itself is _inside_ the mountain behind the Stargate. “Very cool.” Lightning breaks through John’s momentary awe and he grabs Ashri by the upper arm, pulling her inside the mountain.

Ashri wrenches her arm out of his grip and slams her right palm against the rock face next to the opening. A quick glow from her hand and the door closes before them, leaving them in utter darkness. John pulls out and flips on the flashlight then touches the spot they just came through...it’s solid. He turns to Ashri, but she’s already gone.

John steps through the hologram wall and into the cavern. The golden lights are up, but not the blue walls. Ashri’s walking away from him. But what’s strange is that she’s completely dry. Not a trace of rain. John checks his clothes and hair, he’s dry too. He glances at the wall. That’s just weird... _I like it._ He wonders if Atlantis has this many fascinating attributes hidden within.

However, he grumbles silently, right now he’s got to deal with the crazy lady. “You know, just because we had a spat doesn’t mean you need to go out and get all lit up.” He makes a big gesture of pointing at the passageway…and the storm beyond. “If that’s your way of getting attention--”

Ashri slowly turns her head, looking over her shoulder at him, and even though he knows her feelings for him run deep, he can swear at this moment, she’s telling him ‘I-can-kill-you-with-this-one-look.’

John’s not usually one to back down from a confrontation, but that glare could melt Antarctica. He raises both hands defensively and keeps his distance. “My mistake.” Ashri turns from him and continues deeper into the cavern.

The lights begin to fade again, a bit faster this time. John steps over to the corner and looks down at the lamp seemingly buried in the floor. Once again, his jaw drops open…sometime soon it might simply unhinge and fall to the floor. He does a double take on Ashri and raises a questioning finger. “Hey--”

Ashri slowly turns again, nailing him with the same killer glare. John shakes his head and scrunches his face. “Later then.”

  
~~~

Carson’s checking on Ford as Dr. Weir and McKay watch over Teyla with worry. McKay’s actually holding Teyla’s hand in his, leaving the Scotsman with some hope that the scientist has compassion for others than himself hidden deep down. Very deep down. Carson sniggers at that thought. He knows full well that McKay has deep feelings…for someone specific; though he’ll never admit it.

Carson checks Ford’s temperature again. It’s gone up two-tenths of a degree. He checks the man’s pulse. “I fear they’re getting worse.”

“Her hands are cold,” McKay says.

Dr. Weir motions for him to move so she can take the woman’s hand for herself. “He’s right.” She then places Teyla’s hand between both of hers, trying to warm it.

“So are Lt. Ford’s,” Carson says. “They have diminished circulation.”

Dr. Zelenka enters the infirmary in a rush. “Dr. Beckett?” he asks, his accent unusually heavy.

Carson leaves the Lieutenant’s side and quickly assesses Radek’s appearance. “Radek, how are you feeling?”

“Sleepy. You’re call woke me from best dream I’ve had since--”

McKay waves an impatient hand, instantly crossing his arms and looking down his nose at the other scientist. “Yes, yes. He looks fine, Carson.”

Carson checks Radek’s pulse and takes his temperature. “What is meaning of this?” Radek asks, suddenly alarmed. He peers past Carson, finally seeing Teyla and Lt. Ford. “What’s happening?”

Dr. Weir speaks up. “We don’t know, just yet. Have you heard of anyone in the city being sick?”

Radek pulls off his glasses and cleans them on his shirt. “Other than sleepless nights…no. Not a peep.”

“Okay, then,” Carson says. “Sorry to wake you.”

“Is there anything--”

“No,” Dr. Weir says sharply. Wincing at her own tone, she lifts a soft smile. “Thank you, Dr. Zelenka.”

Radek nods and leaves quietly, glancing back just once with a sad look for Dr. Weir. Seems everyone in the city knows how hard she is taking Major Sheppard’s loss. For someone as skilled in politics as Dr. Weir, her lack of diplomacy these days concerns Carson deeply.

“Okay,” Dr. Weir starts. “Whatever’s wrong with Ford and Teyla, it’s not contagious.”

“I won’t say for certain, but I tend to agree, Dr. Weir.”

“So, they caught something on Luminance,” McKay says definitively.

“We don’t know that for sure, Rodney,” Dr. Weir says, shooting him a look.

“Well, for argument's sake,” McKay says. “Let’s assume I’m right, as usual. Why am I not sick?”

Dr. Weir rubs her temples. “Consider it a miracle and get back to work on the Stargate.”

“No, really,” he looks at Carson. “Why am I not sick?”

Carson takes a deep breath and makes a face. “Perhaps the gene--”

Cutting off Carson mid-sentence, McKay says, “Elizabeth, you don’t look so well.”

With a mind-numbing glare, that even cools Carson’s blood, she retorts, “Thanks.”

“He’s right, Dr. Weir. Why don’t you have a seat? Let me take a look at you.”

“I’m fine.” She rubs the back of her neck. “Why is it so hot in here?” Then her eyes roll back into her head and she falls forward.

McKay’s there in an instant, catching her under the arms and resting her head against his shoulder. “Elizabeth!” With a gentleness Carson’s never seen in McKay before, the scientist carefully cradles Dr. Weir under the arms and knees then easily lifts her onto an empty bed. “Does she…?”

Carson’s immediately on the other side of the bed listening to her heart and looking into her eyes with his pen-light.

“Carson?”

He hears the concern in McKay’s voice and looks up, telling him to wait a moment. Carson lifts her hand, checking the fingertips. “I don’t believe so.”

“Then what’s wrong with her?”

He checks her temperature, finding it normal. Then he looks up at McKay. “When was the last time she ate?”

McKay grimaces, shakes his head and mumbles under his breath. “Damnit, Elizabeth.”


	3. Isolation

**DAY 10**

John’s standing in the passageway, letting the harsh, cold rain assault him fully. Three days and no sign that the storm is going to let up any time soon. Not even the nearby sun has been able to break through the deep cloud cover. Where did those clouds come from anyway? He distinctly remembers a clear sky the first day through the gate.

The gate. He can’t get anywhere near it. Several times over the past few days, he’s tested his theory by venturing out a few yards at a time, only to rush back inside the passageway when a bolt of lightning nearly found him. It happens too often to be a coincidence. The lightning truly is attracted to him. _Must be my natural charm._

He’s tried going without a stitch of metal; having finally seen the melted damage to his P-90, he figured it might not be a bad idea to avoid conductivity. All of that failed. For once he’d relish hearing one of McKay’s rambling explanations...or anything.

Silence may be golden, but this is hell. He hasn’t seen another person besides Ashri. And even she refuses to spend time with him or even visit his dreams anymore. He misses her, misses the connection he knows they share. But his apology fell on deaf ears. Even the animals seem to look on him with distain.

John sighs, shakes rain from his hair and steps all the way into the mountain passage. He decides to head right, towards his newly found quarters, instead of left. He’s had enough of the pitch black cavern for today. Ashri’s not big on lights, seems to be highly sensitive to them, in fact. And she spends a lot of time floating in the water…naked. Just the thought of that tightens certain muscles he’s been trying to ignore.

She disappeared after their tussle that first night, so John ate the fruit and vegetables she’d laid out for him and slept fitfully in the nook. When he awoke the next morning, she wasn’t anywhere to be seen, but by the blue-white energy—reminiscent of daylight—in the high ceiling and rafters, he found she’d left breakfast for him on the large stone table. Seems John’s diet here would consist mostly in the vegetarian arena, however he did sample something like a cross between bread and a cracker and what he could only describe as pink scrambled eggs.

The last two days, he spent some time exploring the cavern, finding several other hologram-like walls that lead to different sections of the temple. The Ancients made this place fully functional, including a hydroponics lab for food, a water reclamation lab, storage areas and several sparsely furnished sleeping quarters. John figures the temple served as some kind of observation post, which would explain why they hid it inside a mountain, but doesn’t explain the lack of windows. Luckily his control over the ATA gene enables him to wander aimlessly for hours, when he’s not napping. Still, he usually ends up right back in this passageway, tempting Mother Nature to strike him down.

Dinner by candlelight.

John wanders in from the passageway after a long nap. He’s never been this tired before and feels it must have something to do with the weather…or maybe his injury whatever that was. Ashri’s sitting at the table, thankfully clothed, and sharing some of her food with the cat languishing on the end of the table. Even in the faint light, John can see tabby stripes on the furball’s thick coat. As he moves closer to the table, the cat jumps to its feet, glares at him and hisses before leaping off into the darkness. John raises a brow, _so much for that natural charm._

He sits opposite Ashri, facing her. She’s already set a plate for him and a cup of water. “So, what’s for supper?” he asks reaching for his only utensil, a large spoon. She refuses to meet his gaze and continues eating in silence. John checks out his plate, several brightly colored pieces of fruit and vegetable combined with some sort of mushy grain that reminds him of mashed potatoes, only dark brown. He digs in, finding the food as delicious as before. She may be pissed at him, but Ashri knows how to be a good host and she’s a damn fine cook.

“So,” he starts, trying to make headway on that apology again. “You’ve got quite the pad here. Big...” He watches her carefully. “Where’s everyone hiding?”

Ashri’s spoon hesitates over her plate and she stares at her food. Her shoulders collapse a bit and she bows her head. Intense sadness radiates from her, the wave hitting John full force and he shudders involuntarily, shaking off the urge to weep openly. With a deep breath, Ashri returns to eating and the sadness lifts from John’s mind. _Okay, that was different._

After a few moments of silence, John tries again. “I followed your buddy, Whooter today.” He decided the owl needed a cool name. “Seems he knows his way around. He showed me his escape window or crevice…whatever it is.” Which answered one of John’s many questions about the other inhabitants of the temple. If they are wild, how can they stand being held captive, and if they are pets, how does she manage to sustain them on a veggie diet? Since he had nothing better to do, he waited for the owl to return. When it did, it had presents grasped in its claws. “So, he must be kind of your milk man, right. Not really bringing milk, but he had a couple of Easter Eggs…”

She narrows her eyes at him in question then just as quickly looks down at her plate again. John takes a bite of food, trying to decide how best to describe Easter then chooses the easier path. “I just meant they were bright red.” He shakes his head. “Never mind.”

More silence. He’s getting sick of silence and for a guy who likes a good bit of solitude, that’s saying a lot! Not ready to give up, he tries a different tactic. “You know, this is really good,” he says, tapping his plate. “Before I go, maybe we can set up some trade--”

A sticky piece of fruit hits him in the cheek. He looks up in time to catch Ashri burying a small grin in her drink. John raises his brow. _Huh._ “Nice shot.” Her eyes snap to his then away, but she’s taking a long time with that drink. “Sense of humor…that’s always good.” John grins at her, waiting.

She finally raises her eyes to his, trying to keep that hard glare from before, but failing miserably. He cocks his head and gives her one of his famous puppy-dog pouts that always works on Elizabeth. Ashri loses it and starts to silently giggle.

“Yeah,” John smirks. “You like me.”

Ashri answers by flipping another piece of food at him.

 

~~~

“John?” Elizabeth sits up suddenly, finding herself in the infirmary with an I.V. stuck in her right hand.

Carson’s by her side instantly. “Easy, Dr. Weir. Lay back.”

“Get this thing off me,” she says; her voice harsh and scratchy.

“Not likely, my dear.” He gently presses his hand onto her shoulder. “You’re under my command now. And I’m ordering you to stay put.”

She tries to sit up again. “I have work--”

He presses her back down. “Aye. You’re working on getting better. I can’t believe you let yourself get this bad. You’re a doctor.”

Elizabeth lies back, dropping her left arm over her forehead. “Ph.D. not MD.”

Carson sighs. “All I’m saying, lass, is you’re one of the brightest people I’ve ever met, and you nearly let yourself starve to death.”

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “That’s a bit extreme, Carson.”

“You said it.” He wraps a blood pressure cuff around her arm and pumps it up. Once finished, he removes the cuff and pats her hand. “You’ll be my guest for the next day. If you behave and follow my instructions exactly, then I’ll release you—with conditions—to your own quarters for at least two more days. Understood?”

Elizabeth narrows her gaze, but doesn’t push the matter. “Understood.” The fact is, she feels very tired and in need of some TLC. “Carson? How long have I been out?”

“The better part of two days. You were severely dehydrated and lacking nourishment. You’re lucky we caught it soon enough. You could have caused serious damage to your internal organs.”

All she can do is nod. “Well, if I’m stuck in here, I need to speak with Major Sheppard, let him--” The look on Carson’s face stops her cold. “What? What is it?”

Carson’s brow creases with concern and he leans over, using his pen-light on her eyes. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

“Carson?” she puts a heavy edge on his name.

“Humor me, Dr. Weir.”

He puts the light away and she blinks to get rid of the left over bright spots. “Umm,” she scratches her head and concentrates. _What…?_ “Oh God.” She’s been in a car wreck before, but this hits her with ten times the force. She can feel tears rising as she catches Carson’s eyes. “Major Sheppard!” Then everything returns in a flood. She sits up again, twisting to get a look. “Teyla, Lt. Ford?”

Carson’s gentle hand is on her shoulder again. “Yes, they’re still here.”

“Are they any better?”

“I’m afraid not. But they haven’t gotten any worse.”

She lies back against the pillow, blinking away the unshed tears. “Is anyone else sick?”

“No. Dr. McKay managed to make the announcement without scaring anyone senseless. A couple people with colds, one case of hiccups, nothing major.” He winces at the use of the last word.

“Major,” she repeats softly with a slight whimper, seeing John’s handsome face in her mind, his boyish smirk that usually made the girl in her giggle. Elizabeth sighs heavily. “I’m hungry.”

Carson pats her hand again. “That’s a good sign. I’ll have some food brought up from the mess. Nothing heavy, mind you. Some crackers and soup. I think there may be some raspberry Jell-O.”

Elizabeth closes her eyes, not caring. “Sounds yummy.”

 

~~~

“So, Ashri,” John says when he’s finished eating. He gets up and moves around the table to her side, sitting so that he’s facing her profile. She doesn’t get up which he takes as a good sign, but she also doesn’t look at him. “Why don’t you tell me about yourself?” He cocks his head, waiting.

She’s busying herself with pushing the last bits of her food around her plate. John leans in closer, not wanting to crowd or intimidate her, but simply wanting to be as near her as possible. “Tell me about your…special hand.” Instantly her hands dive under the table and she closes her eyes. Realizing she’s a hard sell, John brings out the big guns: dimples and charm. “You know, the silent treatment’s not the easiest way--”

_John._

John jerks, sitting up straight. _Okay…wasn’t expecting that!_   He clearly heard her voice—in his head!

_Shocking._

_Interesting._

_Unnerving as hell!_  

Ashri opens her eyes and peeks at him with her peripheral vision before looking at her plate. Again he’s stunned by her innocence. She may be harboring a secret, though it’s not out of malice, but fear. Just as the sadness invaded his mind earlier, so does her fear now. Fear that he’ll not understand. Or worse…hurt her again.

John’s shamed by that last one and his breath catches. Reaching down, he easily turns her chair so she’s facing him. She doesn’t try to get away or stop him, but she keeps her eyes downcast at her hands clasped in her lap. He licks his lips nervously then makes up his mind on how to proceed. “Okay. Show me what’cha got,” he whispers.

Ashri finally raises her eyes to meet his, clearly shocked by this show of trust. Still, she’s skittish about touching him. She makes a couple attempts to place her right hand against his temple, but can’t bring herself to do it. John covers her hand with his and guides it into place, letting his fingers linger; enjoying the delicate softness of the back of her hand and the warmth against his face. “It’s all right.”

Ashri relaxes a bit, though her hand trembles under his. She nods slightly then blinks indicating John should close his eyes which he does. Brilliant white light flashes in his mind then fades as colors begin to form shapes. It’s a beautiful day in the neighborhood…until--

A familiar, high-pitched whir startles him and he jumps as a Wraith dart flies overhead and blows the crap out of the nearby stone pillars and Stargate altar. John ducks, but Ashri places a hand on his shoulder. They’re standing outside the mountain, in the field he and his team ran through to get to the gate. The yellow-blue grass isn’t as tall, though it still leaves stains on hundreds of people running through it for the open wormhole.

Screams are cut off suddenly as several people get scooped up by a Wraith beam that passes right over John and Ashri without taking them. John’s rocked by this, but Ashri seems to take it in stride. “There.” She points. John’s startled by her voice after not having heard it in so many days. He pulls his gaze from her and looks to where she’s indicating.

A middle-aged man rushes a very pregnant woman toward the gate. The woman stumbles next to a familiar pond. John’s close to a memory, but it’s interrupted by the woman’s cry. “Rien!” John sees Ashri flinch at the sound of the woman’s voice.

“Ashel!” The man—Rien, John figures—moves to help her but takes a hit in the shoulder by a Wraith stunner. He goes down face first into the grass. Ashel screams again, this time in horror as the Wraith approaches not Rien, but her, his vicious gaze directed at her swollen belly.

The Wraith grabs Ashel by the throat, lifting her off the ground, leaving her feet dangling, uselessly kicking in the air. The Wraith rips a hole in the woman’s dress and plunges his hand against her bared belly. The howl that barely escapes Ashel’s captured throat is enough to send John into a vengeful rage and he starts to move.

Ashri places a hand on his arm. “This is long over,” she says as a tear drips down her flushed cheek. John’s torn between comforting Ashri and watching the car wreck of a memory she’s desperate to show him. Taking her hand from his arm, he clasps it between both of his.

John stares in horror as Ashel struggles futilely against the Wraith holding her. His eyes widen in shock as the woman’s belly illuminates from within…nothing he’s ever seen or imagined could prepare him for this…A soft whimper catches in John’s throat as a tiny fetal hand presses against the womb, mirroring that of the Wraith…coming in contact if not for the now translucent skin of the mother’s belly.

Apparently the Wraith finds this as intriguing as John for he gazes at the meeting hands instead of continuing to feed. The pause only lasts a brief moment, but long enough for Rien to pick up the stunner on the ground next to him and fire a shot.

The Wraith drops Ashel and Rien fires again, sending the Wraith onto its back. Rien stumbles over to Ashel, finding a bloody Wraith print on her belly. “Something is wrong,” she says, her voice a handful of breaths.

“We cannot chance the ring now,” Rien says with a glance over his shoulder.

Ashel nods, looks at the pond. “The temple. It is secret. None will tell of it.” Rien considers this for a brief moment then agrees. He slips into the water and pulls Ashel in after him. Together they wade to the mountain wall, take deep breaths and disappear under the water.

White light.

John spins in place…still standing by Ashri, though no longer holding her hand, they’re now inside the temple again, he’s trying to get his bearings. All the walls are energized, the whole place burgeoning with crystal light. Rien’s standing at the stone table with a young child, perhaps ten. John recognizes the man has aged so he figures the child must be Ashri dressed in ill-fitting men’s clothing. At the moment, she seems to be having a silent conversation with Rien while they hover over a motionless owl on the table.

“My mother did not survive the birthing,” Ashri says, confirming what John suspects. “When Father discovered the markings on my hand, he knew the others would never accept me. He kept my existence a secret. He knew they would fear me.” She pauses for a moment then adds with a slight tremor in her voice, “As you do.”

“I don’t,” he says, but he can tell she doesn’t believe him. John links his fingers through hers and gives her hand a gentle squeeze. “Not any more.” This simple gesture seems to mean everything to Ashri. She pulls her gaze from the others and looks him in the eyes, smiling as she did in his dreams. Again he sees the unconditional love in there…but now something else has crept in. Her eyes dilate as she smiles and momentarily drift to his lips before turning back to the memory before them.

 _Uh oh._ John’s sure he not only saw what he saw, but felt that little flutter of attraction as well…and this time, it wasn’t coming from him. _This could get complicated._

Over at the table, young Ashri places her right hand on the immobile owl. A golden glow comes from her palm. “Father believed my survival of the encounter had been a gift of the Ancestors. I learned to give of myself. Not take.”

John watches as young Ashri’s concentration begins to pay off. The owl slowly starts to twitch. Then breathe. Within moments, the wild bird takes flight up into the rafters. Rien kisses his daughter’s forehead and she beams at him with devotion before collapsing heavily into a chair. Rien kneels next to his daughter and wipes sweat from her blanched face.

Suddenly, the owl swoops down from its perch above, landing gracefully on the table. The wild creature hops the few inches toward the young girl and gently nips at her arm before lowering its head and exposing its neck for her to scratch, which makes the young girl smile. John is awed by the sight…which explains a lot about the other creatures residing in the temple.

“My father was a great leader of our people. He and mother were…” Ashri seems to be searching for the right word. She looks at him and a glint hits her eyes. “Scientists,” she says finally. John realizes that all this time, she’s been using his mind to facilitate her use of language. She returns her gaze to the memory. “In Father’s absence from the city, the others created a powerful, deadly weapon.”

The word ‘weapon’ instantly charges John’s senses. But when he looks into Ashri’s face again, he sees a darkness there he wants nothing more than to erase. “The legacy of which,” she adds. “Is the lightning storms.”

 _Ah ha!_   So they're not a natural phenomenon. “And just how long do they last?”

“We are amidst the season peak. Strikes will increase in frequency and power for some time.”

John nods, biting his lip. “So I’m stuck here.” The moment he says it, he regrets it. Ashri pulls her hand from his and clasps both behind her back.

“When the Wraith returned, the weapon destroyed many ships before suffering a malfunction. The skies burned with fire for many days then the red cover came and hot rain fell. Afterward, the strikes began. The Wraith were not satisfied with the damage done to Luminance. They returned in full force--”

“To wipe it out,” John says sullenly.

She nods once. “Father left me in the safety of the temple and went to fight among his people.” She takes a deep breath and raises her chin almost in defiance to her next words. “He did not return.” Rien’s image fades, leaving young Ashri alone at the table. “No one did.”

The young girl raises her chin as Ashri just did, though tears streak her face. John’s too far away to see for sure, but he’s under the impression the young girl is looking directly at them…at _him._

“Until you,” Ashri whispers, almost as an after thought.

White light.

They’re standing next to the pond outside the mountain, watching the past. Ashri’s head breaks the surface of the pond just as the wormhole whooshes. She hides in the shadows of the rocks, her long hair swirling around her like a silky cloak as she watches the team rushing toward the gate. John sees Teyla go through, but sees himself pause, locking eyes with the woman in the water. A split second later, John is hit with white-hot lightning and falls face first into the pond.

“Major!”

“McKay down!”

Ford and McKay fall into the wormhole and disappear. Part of John understands the urgency of their retreat as lightning strikes where the two had been standing and part of the altar comes crashing down. But why did they leave him behind? Ford of all people should have returned for him. John suppresses his anger at that thought and turns back as the other Ashri cautiously swims to the body floating face down in the water and turns him over.

John gasps at the sight of his wide open eyes. _Oh, crap!_   He’s seen that look before. Death came instantly. The black gash over his right eye tells him where the lightning hit and a chunk of material missing from the front left of his vest, where the energy burst through and made contact with his P-90. He didn’t have a chance.

_So, Atlantis probably thinks he’s dead…and for good reason. But why wouldn’t they come back for his body?_

Ashri touches the spot on his chest and pulls back dark, bloody fingers. She turns his face toward her, looking into his eyes and caressing his cheek with the sticky fingers. In the next moment, she goes under water, pulling John along.

Flash of white light and their back in the cavern, dimly lit with candles. John can see Ashri break the surface, tugging his dead body along. She swims to the shallow end and raises him onto the stone steps. Remaining in the water, she deftly strips off his vest then his shirt. She grasps his face so she can look into his eyes again and a small smile lifts her lips.

John can only stand in wonder as he suspects what is about to happen. How could she know it would work? What did she see in his eyes…his _dead_ eyes?

Clapping her hands together once with a harsh smack that echoes through the cavern, Ashri places her left hand over the wound on his forehead and her right over his heart. Closing her eyes, she takes long, deep breaths. The now familiar golden glow emanates from her right palm. Her brow furrows in concentration and then her left palm starts to glow weakly.

Moments pass. John glances at the Ashri standing next to him, but she does not look away from the pond. He watches again, realizing he’s holding his breath…waiting…

She’s breathing faster…harder. Her brows knit together and her body begins to tremble. The water surrounding them starts to stir and suddenly the entire pond is aglow with murky light. The four corner lamps brighten. The walls of the temple energize.

Ashri’s breathing comes in rasps; she’s shaking violently though holding onto his body with unwavering strength. Her porcelain face becomes drawn and dangerously pale.

John can’t help but kneel at the edge of the pond, watching as she presses on, willing the life back into his body. Her determination and refusal to give up reminds him of Elizabeth.

Ashri’s eyes open and it seems she’s staring right at John. Not the one in the pond, but the one kneeling before her amazed by her strength and will. How could she believe he was worth all the effort? He doesn’t even believe that.

Gasping and trembling, a loud, defiant groan escapes from her throat and she throws her head back. The lights in the cavern brighten exponentially; John has to shield his eyes.

The other John coughs and sucks in a deep rugged breath. He blinks repeatedly, breathing deep then his eyes close.

Ashri collapses limply against the other John’s chest. Instantly, the cavern goes dark.

 

~~~

John opens his eyes, finding himself still sitting at the table facing Ashri, but now there are tears on his cheeks. Overwhelmed doesn’t even come close to how he’s feeling at that moment. He can’t get that final image out of his head. All he can do is stare at the woman before him, unable to comprehend anything past her beautiful face and eyes.

What she did defies anything he’s ever known about people. John revisits his first assumption, she’s not a person…she’s an angel.

Ashri drops her hand away from his face and looks down, breaking eye contact. John tugs her hand out from hiding. The fact that she trembles at his touch and doesn’t easily comply tells him she’s unaccustomed to physical contact and possibly a bit weary given the last time he grabbed her wrist.

This time, he’s tender and gentle but persistent and she finally relents. John holds her hand in his, palm up and carefully coaxes her into extending her fingers so he can see the Wraith marking on her palm again. As he studies it, John slowly draws his thumb over the leaf-shaped marking.

Ashri sucks in a quick breath at this genuinely intimate touch and John looks up seeing tears dripping down her cheeks. Just as he caressed her palm, John draws his thumb over her cheek wiping away the tears. He smiles but shakes his head. “Thank you just isn’t enough.”

 

**DAY 12**

Rodney knocks on Elizabeth’s door, but she doesn’t answer. He taps the control crystal that emits a soft, tinkling beep and waits. Nothing. Rodney taps his headset. “Control Room, where’s Dr. Weir.”

“She’s supposed to be in her quarters resting,” Peter says.

Rodney rocks his head from side to side. “I know where she’s supposed to be. I want to know where she _is_.” Rodney knocks on her door again. “Elizabeth. If you’re in there, you better open up or I’m overriding the lock and coming in on my own.”

No answer.

“Fine.” Rodney does as he threatened and the doors swish open. The room’s empty, the bed unmade. He goes inside, covers his eyes and leans through the bathroom door. “Elizabeth? I’m not looking, but if you don’t answer me, I can’t guarantee I won’t see something you want hidden.”

Again no answer. Rodney checks the bathroom, it’s empty. He clicks his headset again. “Peter, call Dr. Beckett, ask him if he’s seen Dr. Weir.”

“Just a moment.” Rodney waits and Peter comes back on-line. “She’s not in the infirmary and he says she missed her check-up.”

 _Fuck!_ Rodney stomps his foot. “Control Room, go city wide, please.”

“Do you really think that’s necessary, Dr. McKay?”

Rodney grunts. “No, I’m just bored. Of course it’s necessary!”

“Very well. Go ahead.”

“Dr. Weir, this is Dr. McKay. Both Dr. Beckett and I would appreciate your immediate attention in the infirmary…do you copy?” Several moments of silence pass, pushing Rodney into full-blown panic. He rushes out of her room, the doors closing as he leaves and he heads straight to the infirmary.

Carson’s optimistic gaze on the door sours when Rodney comes through instead of Dr. Weir. “What the bloody hell’s going on?”

“You tell me, you released her.”

“Yeah, well, she promised to follow my orders.”

“Nobody follows your orders, Carson!” Just then the infirmary doors part and Dr. Zelenka comes inside, his face full of worry as usual. “Not now, Radek,” Rodney snaps.

Zelenka sighs heavily. “I have three things you should know, McKay. One: power problem is getting exponentially worse every moment--”

“Tell me something I don’t know.”

“Two: Is not my fault so stop biting my head off every time I come into room.”

“And three?” Rodney asks not bothering to hide the contempt in his voice.

“I know where to find Dr. Weir.” With that, Zelenka turns and heads out the doors.

Rodney rushes to catch up, with Carson in tow. “That should have been the _first_ thing you told me!” The three doctors take the nearest transporter and as soon as they head down a familiar corridor, Rodney and Carson exchange knowing looks. “I should have guessed,” Rodney says as Zelenka powers open the door to Sheppard’s quarters.

Dr. Weir’s lying curled in the fetal position, hugging a pillow, on top of the Major’s bed, sound asleep. Carson and Rodney give a relieved sigh in unison. Carson closes the door and the three men talk in the corridor. “That explains why she didn’t answer the city wide,” Rodney says.

“How’s that?” Carson asks.

“Sheppard did something to his quarters so he wouldn’t be disturbed except for the headset. He said the speakers made a hissing sound.” Rodney turns to Zelenka. “How’d you find her?”

“I’m manually shutting off power in unused sections until we find out what is wrong. Since the Major isn’t going to be using--”

“Yes, yes…I get it.” Rodney looks back at Carson. “So what do we do?”

Carson shakes his head. “Leave her be. She’s exhausted. That seems to be the soundest sleep she’s had in a while.”

“But…Major Sheppard’s room?” Rodney furrows his brows and wrinkles his nose.

“We all deal with death in our own ways, Rodney. This is Dr. Weir’s. She’s lost someone very close to her.”

Rodney takes a moment to process that. “Very close…I mean…how…close are you suggesting?”

Carson pats Rodney on the back and starts to lead him to the transporter with Zelenka following. “I’m afraid that is something you’ll have to ask Dr. Weir. For now, leave her be. I’ll check in on her later, make sure she’s following at least the rest of my orders. For now, I suggest you get back to work on that power problem. I can’t have my infirmary suffering from any blackouts.”

Rodney nods at that. “We’ll keep that sustained as long as possible. How are Teyla and Ford?”

Carson shakes his head. “The virus seems to be draining them of energy.”

“Like a Wraith?”

“Not really. It’s attacking their cells. I’m assuming that is why you’re not sick. The ATA gene acts as a barrier to the virus.”

“Lucky me. So what’s it doing to them?”

“Basically, draining them like batteries.”

Zelenka and Rodney shoot Carson astonished looks. “What?”

“If you remember your high school biology, you know that every living cell has a form of electricity at its core--”

“Ohmigod!” Rodney snaps his fingers quickly.

Zelenka picks up his train of thought. “ _The Matrix_!”

Rodney wags a finger at Zelenka. “That’s it!”

“What? What did I say?”

“We’ll have to run some tests,” Zelenka states.

“Of course, we do.”

“Could you tell me what’s going on?” Carson’s utterly confused.

“Not just yet,” Rodney says.

 

~~~

John walks through one of the hologram walls carrying a basket of fruit, veggies and that awesome bread. It’s only been a few days, but he’s become accustom to using the passageways and no longer feels any awe in regards to the temple, especially since most of it remains in the dark. He gets that now, the whole power-saver settings. He’s surprised it took him so long. Maybe he’s just spoiled having been on Atlantis the past six months.

 _Atlantis_. They must think he’s dead. Hell, he _was_ dead! But surely they would have tried to return for him, for his body at least. Maybe they did. Maybe they came right back, but because of the temple, didn’t find him. Won’t they be shocked?

God, _Elizabeth thinks I’m dead._

He’s seen the toll any expedition member’s death takes on her no matter how hard she tries to hide it. And he’s not about to hold himself up higher than the others, but they’re friends. Close friends. He would go so far as to say he loves her. Not romantically, though she’s definitely a beautiful, brilliant woman, but he put that thought out of his head months ago. She’s the best friend he’s ever had, man or woman, and there’s no way in hell he’ll screw with that by getting a schoolboy crush on her.

He knows Elizabeth loves him too…one friend to another. But more than that, she relies on him. She needs him as much as he needs her. And John knows from personal experience, sometimes losing a close friend is worse than losing anyone else, even a lover. He’ll never forget how Kolya ripped his heart out by claiming he’d killed Elizabeth. John couldn’t speak it hurt so badly. He wanted to tear Kolya apart limb by limb. He’d gone all _Die Hard_ on the Genii attack force as payback. And when he found out Kolya had lied…he still wanted his pound of flesh from the man. And he got it too.

Elizabeth was in shock for days afterward. They spent all their spare time together, just sitting, enjoying each others company, even in silence. It was all either needed, just to know they had each other...alive. Screw the rumors on Atlantis. Screw Rodney’s insane jealousy. Elizabeth and he would always be friends. Best friends. She trusts him and he trusts her.

He has to get back there.

John sets the basket on the table and goes over to the nook, leaning against the wall with one arm overhead. He wonders why Ashri sleeps here when there are actual bedrooms in other sections. Not that it isn’t comfy. His mind suddenly turns to mush as she rolls her head toward him in her sleep so that he can see her face in the soft candlelight of the cavern. His breath catches. She looks like an angel. _What was that about a crush?_   John shakes the thought aside, his little voice is really starting to bug.

Showing him the past took a lot out of her, letting John know that her “powers” or whatever, are not unlimited. She’s been sleeping most of the past couple of days, though fitfully. John wonders if nightmares are a consequence of reliving the memories. Seems reasonable they would be, considering she’s vividly recalling the deaths of her parents, the destruction of her home.

John feels a wave of gratitude flood through him. It’s quite possible she could have died that day, giving all of herself to save his life. He can’t prove it, but his mind won’t let him forget the toll it took on her. He wonders why she would take such a risk on a complete stranger. But the only reason he can come up with makes his heart ache. She’s been alone a long time. Too long. John rests his head against his arm. That’s something he can fix…when the storm lets up. Hopefully she’ll go along with it.

Her brows crease and she whimpers in her sleep. Forgetting about the food, John slides into the nook, pushing a pillow behind him as he sits against the stone wall and stretches his legs out beside Ashri. He smoothes a hand over her forehead and the worry lines lessen. Her body rolls toward him and she nuzzles against his hip, her left hand on his thigh. His chest tightens at the innocent, but sensual touch. John forces himself to relax. He’s done this many times in the last couple of days. It’s all he has to give her…his comfort…his companionship. He’s certainly _not_ going to take advantage of her.

Ashri’s breathing steadies and the whimpering ends with a soft sigh. John slowly combs his fingers through her silky hair, gently pulling aside a few strands attached to her cheek, and tucking them behind her ear, only then noticing a bit more white at her temple. John sighs. He owes her more than he can ever repay.


	4. Isolation

**DAY 18**

Carson’s working by flashlight as Elizabeth comes through the now always open doors to the infirmary. She can hear the beeps from the EKG’s and the soft hum of oxygen machines, but other than that, the infirmary has limited power. It’s pretty much the only place with any power. Once doctors McKay and Zelenka determined the actual problem facing the city, Rodney told her that he had to lock open all doors so that no one would get stuck in a room without an exit. Yesterday, it had seemed a bit extreme, but as she walked the corridors, she realized how many doors could actually be compromised by this power outage.

For some reason not even McKay could explain, the Puddle Jumpers had not been attacked by the virus, so earlier today, she’d ordered most of the personnel to the mainland since they could not get any work done in the dark and should the Wraith choose now to attack, they couldn’t even arm the self-destruct. Only Carson, Rodney, Peter, Zelenka and herself remained…along with Teyla and Ford.

“Hey, Carson,” she says, startling him a bit. John always says she moves like a cat. “What day is it?”

“Uh, Sunday, I believe. How are you feeling today, Dr. Weir?

“Better.”

“Did you eat your supper?”

“Every horrible bite.” She sneers at that. With the power leakage came a shutdown of refrigeration. Most of the edible food went with the others to the mainland for immediate consumption. They were left with military rations and other dried goods.

“Then you should be getting some sleep.”

“I’ll sleep when we get Major Sheppard back.”

Carson looks up from his work, his eyes sad and weary. “And if we don’t?” Elizabeth felt her heart slam into her chest. “I’m sorry, Dr. Weir, but it has been over two weeks without the Stargate. Not only that, given what Dr. McKay witnessed, there’s little probability--”

“I’m not delusional, Carson. I know the odds of him actually being alive. I’m just saying…we need to get him back.”

Carson seems to understand her full meaning and nods. “I’m wondering if you might consider… having a wake for the lad?”

Elizabeth slides into the chair nearest him and rests an elbow on his desk. “I’ve thought about it.”

“It might be good…for closure.”

She feels the tears rising again, but this time she doesn’t fight them or try to hold them inside. She can’t anymore…it’s just too damn hard to be so in control these days. Carson’s in front of her immediately, wrapping his big arms around her and pulling her against his chest. “I don’t want to say goodbye, Carson.”

“Shhh…I know.” He lets her weep; rocking her like a baby until she has no more tears to shed.

Elizabeth sits back, pulling herself out of his grasp and rubbing her sleeve under her nose. “It’s not fair. It’s not right.”

“It never is…for those left behind,” Carson says and Elizabeth nods.

She wipes the remaining tears away and looks beyond the office to the only two patients. “How are they doing? Any good news?”

“News…don’t know how good. The virus is attacking the electricity in their cells, but it’s taking its time. It seems to know they can’t be drained completely.”

“Is that even possible? For a virus to know that?”

“On Earth? No. But out here…I’ve seen a lot of impossible things. At least for the time being, they’re relatively stable. I have them on high electrolyte IV’s and oxygen. Their fevers haven’t yet broken, but they haven’t gone higher.”

Elizabeth nods. “What about the gene. If McKay’s not sick--”

“Aye. I’ve run some tests and it does stop the virus. Unfortunately, it must be present prior to exposure. It acts as a barrier on the cells, deflecting the bug.” He shows her a crudely hand drawn visual aid. “The virus has to attach itself to an electrical source immediately to survive and multiply.”

“So, how did the city get infected?”

“The rocks,” McKay says, leaning against the office door frame.

His eyes are wide with dark circles underneath and he hasn’t shaved since returning from Luminance. The beard is starting to grow on her…no pun intended. He starts to talk with his hands in that rapid fire way everyone is used to now. Sometimes Elizabeth misses portions of what he’s saying, but at least she gets the gist of it.

“It’s in the rocks that followed Ford and me through the gate. I’ve surmised that the entire planet has this virus. Now, we all know that electricity is life. I figure the virus is generally inert, until it’s hit by lightning. Which basically wakes it up like that first jolt of coffee in the morning…then it jumps into the nearest conductor for food.

“And it found the strongest electrical signature in the system,” Elizabeth says.

“Precisely. The Ancient technology is a combination of bio and mechanical. Which is how they incorporated the use of the gene. But the city doesn’t _have_ the gene itself, so no barrier. The bio-tech is directly linked to the mechanical, so when the virus jumped from the rocks, it latched into the gate system somehow. Possibly during transport through the wormhole even. Then all it had to do was spread to the mechanical power.”

“How did it get Ford and Teyla?” She asks.

“Well, we were very close to a lightning blast and we all got covered in dirt from it. I’m sure that must be when it happened.”

Carson nods. “That makes sense. The virus doesn’t survive long in the atmosphere. In all the blood samples I’ve taken from Ford and Teyla, the virus is either dying or dead by the time I get it under the microscope.”

“So how do we kill it?” Elizabeth asks.

McKay huffs. “It’s a biologic turned computer virus. It’s not like we have a McAFee's program on standby.”

“There has to be something. We can’t lose the city because of this thing.” Elizabeth can tell he’s holding something back. His eyes are shifty and he’s twitching a bit. “Rodney?”

McKay rolls his eyes and raises his brows. “I do have a radical thought. It might work.” He pauses. “Maybe.”

 

~~~

“That’s the craziest bloody thing I’ve ever heard!” Carson yelps.

“And the possibility of it working is pretty remote.” McKay says. “But you said yourself, it’s not contagious so it can’t jump anywhere, correct?”

Carson grimaces. “Well, yes…but--”

“There you go.”

Dr. Weir rubs her hands over her face. “And you can’t think of anything else that might be a little less…dangerous?”

McKay looks as if he’s considering saying something then tilts his head. “Nope.”

Dr. Weir takes a deep breath. “Well…it’s not like we have any real options here. Dr. Beckett, what will you need to sustain Teyla and Ford?”

Carson shakes his head. “I can’t believe you’re considering this.” But Dr. Weir cocks a brow at him, letting him know he’s out numbered. “Very well. I’ll need at least two portable generators that haven’t been affected by the virus.”

“Done,” McKay says.

“Really?” Elizabeth asks.

“Yeah. The Puddle Jumpers have their own power supply. I’ll have Zelenka harvest a couple and bring them down here.”

“And you’re sure they’re not infected.”

McKay makes a face. “Pretty sure.”

Carson exchanges a skeptical look with Dr. Weir, but he says, “It’ll have to do.”

Dr. Weir gets to her feet. “Okay then, we’ll try the generators for at least a day. In the meantime, Rodney, I want you and Dr. Zelenka to test your theory on a smaller scale.”

“Smaller?”

“Laptops.”

“Elizabeth!”

She holds up a hand to stop him. “Then we’ll go from there.”

McKay’s bubble bursts and he pouts. “Fine.”

 

**DAY 23**

Ashri finishes lathering John’s face with a greenish cream that smells like a cross between bananas and passion fruit and leaves his skin warm and tingly.

He tried to shave the beard with his knife, but only managed to thin down the growth a little bit since his knife is in serious need of sharpening. Besides, dry shaving hurts like hell. Surreptitiously, John found that Ashri seems to be hair free on her arms and legs at least from what he’s glimpsed. Of course, women have all sorts of secret rituals men never know about. It’s more likely she has some crazy herb that keeps her stubble free. John grins. Screw ZPM’s, the ladies of Atlantis would kill to get their hands on something that useful. He’d love to investigate his theory, but lately, Ashri’s been a bit more modest about her body. John wonders if maybe that came from him.

Yesterday, he tried to explain to her that he wished to be rid of the beard and how he was going to go about it. Ashri seemed to understand after about twenty minutes. She disappeared for the rest of the afternoon and this morning she brought out this fruit concoction, a bowl of water and a flat disk of stone, very sharp on one edge. Grateful, John tried to take the objects, but Ashri refused to let him leave. She raised the lights in the temple to daylight level and indicated that he should sit so she could shave him. John suspected she was asking for his trust, so he obliged and she lathered him up.

Expecting her to work from behind, John leans back in the chair only to have her motion for him to sit up. Ashri then moves before him and sits on his lap, straddling his legs. John’s breath catches, but being the innocent person that she is, Ashri has no clue what she’s doing to him. He blanks his mind, concentrating on anything but the woman sitting on him, so close he can smell her…see the flecks of gold in her dark eyes, the black outline of her irises, the long black lashes... _C’mon, man, it’s not like she’s giving you a lap dance. Chill!_

The stone blade touches his cheek. Ashri tilts her head, her eyes following the careful descent of the stone. She rinses it off in the bowl of water set on the table then returns to his face for another stroke.

John’s fascinated by her focus as much as her gentleness. He doesn’t even feel the nick on his jaw and never would have known about it if she hadn’t suddenly stopped with her eyes wide in worry. John touches the spot, seeing blood on his fingertips. He grins easily. “I do it all the time,” he says. Ashri sighs with relief, cleans off the stone razor then presses her right palm against his jaw, instantly healing the cut.

Before he realizes it, she’s done and ready to get up, only to look down and see…his hands on her thighs. John didn’t even realize he was touching her, let alone holding her in place. He managed to clear his mind of all lusty thoughts, but still his body craves contact with her. She catches his gaze, tilting her head in that questioning way he’s gotten used to, staring at him for a moment until her eyes widen a bit and a blush colors her cheeks. Ashri quickly drops her gaze.

John grudgingly pulls his hands from her, and she rises, still not looking at him. He’s gone too far. She must have seen what he’s been trying so hard to ignore, but can’t possibly hide or deny. And it must have scared her.

He rubs his face; it feels great, incredibly smooth. As the lights slowly dim in the temple, John rises from his chair. He leans over and whispers, “Thanks,” in her ear followed by “and…sorry.” John’s about to walk away when Ashri reaches behind her and grasps his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

 

**DAY 25**

“Tell me of your world,” Ashri says, leaning back into his chest. Her silky black hair hangs over her shoulder in a ponytail that ends at her waist. John rests his chin on the top of her head. They’re cuddling on a grassy hill with a view of the Golden Gate Bridge. The sun’s shining, though the fog is rolling in. She’s wearing a sleeveless sundress and John trails his fingers down her bare arm, relishing the smooth skin. “Are there many people?” She’s in awe watching the different faces passing by.

John’s not sure where the faces come from, somewhere deep in his subconscious. “Too many.”

Ashri turns so she can look into his eyes. “Is that why you left?”

John chuckles. “No.”

“Do you miss it?”

“Some of it.”

“What do you miss?” John raises his brows; what would be first on the list? Ashri places her hand on his cheek, guiding his eyes to hers. “Don’t tell…show me.”

They’re slowly rotating on a Ferris wheel on Santa Monica Pier. Ashri squeals in awe. “It’s so beautiful.” She points at the water. “What is that called?”

“The Pacific Ocean.” John wonders how he conjured up a pollution free memory, but the city looks gorgeous as the sun hovers in the sky. The dark water glistens and ripples all the way to the horizon.

“Amazing.” Her hand skims over the railing of their rocking cart and takes his. “What else?”

Now, they’re walking barefoot through the sand munching on hotdogs. “Mmm. I’ve never tasted such a thing. What’s it made of?”

John smirks and shakes his head. “You don’t want to know.” Ashri gazes up at him, her cheeks bulging with the last bite and she smiles. “Really, you don’t,” he laughs.

Ashri points at the ocean again, seeing people on surf boards. “You like…” She glances at John, reads him and adds, “surfing?”

The word sounds strange coming from her and John does a double take. “Yeah.”

As they stroll, her fingers graze the back of his hand and he takes the opportunity to link his fingers through hers. Ashri glances down at the melding hands then looks back up at him warmly. John feels the butterflies squirming in his belly. He’s like a teenager on a first date. “I’m so glad you showed me how to do this,” he says, giving her hand a gentle squeeze.

Ashri leans her head against his shoulder. “I am…surprised it worked so quickly. Sharing my thoughts is much easier than this. It took many years for my father to be able to join with me…to show me his memories.”

“But this is different. You and I have never been here. You’ve never felt the sand between your toes.”

“It is…how do I say? Memories can be fluid…change shape as in dreams, if one chooses. You have been in these places, you remember sight and sound…touch,” she rubs her thumb over the back of his hand. “And pass those on to me.”

“Living vicariously to the extreme,” he laughs and Ashri gazes up at him with confusion in her eyes. “I guess my brain doesn’t have an alternative use for 'vicarious'?”

She smiles. “No.”

John nods and motions with his free hand. “This. Being here when we really aren’t. It’s vicarious.”

She nods in understanding now. “What else do you miss?”

“Major Sheppard.” John and Ashri stand in front of the whirling event horizon in the Atlantis gate room.

“Elizabeth,” John gasps, seeing her standing on the Control Room balcony.

She smiles and waves. “Be careful.”

“John?” Ashri touches his arm and he looks down at her. “What is this place?”

John sighs. “Home.”

 

~~~

Dusk settles over the mainland and all personnel are in attendance for the candlelight ceremony except Carson who, unfortunately, had to remain in the city with Teyla and Ford. Elizabeth misses the Scot; she could use his strong shoulders about now. McKay stays by her side the whole time, keeping a close eye on her every move. She’s certain Dr. Beckett has put him up to it. They’re both afraid she may lose her composure as the wake gets underway. Still, she’s glad to have Rodney there…she wishes none of them had to be.

Even the Athosians have taken a hit with the loss of John. The young boy, Jinto, has not smiled since the news came, according to his father, Halling. Elizabeth hadn’t realized how much Jinto idolized John…but the Major did save him and his people. It makes sense.

Halling’s concern over Teyla has not made this trip any easier. The man is unsure how to deal with the fact that Teyla is not being permitted to prepare for death. Elizabeth tried to explain to him that she is unconscious and more than likely not aware of her surroundings or her ill health, but the man finds that difficult to believe.

After the sun sets, the Athosian tradition seems similar to that of Dr. Beckett: drinks all around. The Athosian wine is potent and tasty. Elizabeth could easily compare it to punch and let herself get lost in a numbing stupor. However, Rodney has finally convinced her that his plan will work. So she toasts with one full glass throughout the night for tomorrow they will take a drastic step.

By the end of the wake, more than three-quarters of the Atlantis crew are giggling drunks, recalling any number of humorous anecdotes about Major Sheppard. Elizabeth envies them. She wishes like hell she could be happy. Instead there’s a fury growing inside her; a darkness full of anger because there’s nothing she can do, no bargain she can make.

And she knows…John’s not dead.

She _knows_ it.

 

~~~

Ashri follows John’s gaze as he stares at Elizabeth. “She is important to you.”

“Yes.”

“You wish to leave Luminance to be with her.”

An intense wave of sadness floods John’s soul and he’s suddenly back in the candlelit nook facing Ashri. She’s retracting her right hand from his temple and her left hand drops away from his. He pulls his hand from her temple, rounding her cheek and lifts her chin so that her eyes meet his. “You’re coming with me.”

Ashri turns her head enough that his fingers slip from her chin then she steps out of the nook and into the darkness of the cavern. The sadness has not lifted from his heart and John knows they’re not his feelings.

At least…not _all_ his feelings.

He promised himself that he would be a good boy. And he has been. And it’s been a challenge! Spending every waking moment with Ashri—and some seriously sensual not so waking moments—and not once making any romantic overtures, not an easy thing to do considering how much he’s grown to care about her.

At first he was concerned his feelings were merely based in gratitude for saving his life, or a reflection of her thoughts on his mind. But after spending time with her in the ‘dreamscapes’ as he’s started to think of them, he’s realized there’s more to Ashri than a savior. Her amazing mind would give McKay pause, she has the most beautiful open heart he’s ever known, and she’s funny to boot.

And damn if she can’t raise his temperature—among other things—with just a touch from one little pinky. The woman has no idea the power she has over him…how hard— _scratch that_ —difficult it’s been for him to keep his hands to himself. He has to constantly remind himself that she’s been alone… no human contact of any kind since her father died. How could he possibly--

_You can’t!_

John sighs, stepping out of the nook, his eyes easily adjusting to the darkness of the cavern. Ashri’s back is to him, her hair knotted several times into a loose hanging bun, exposing her luminous neck. She’s busily setting up the table for dinner while her cat rubs his whiskers against her arm.

John steps behind her, towering over her slim form, placing his hands on her shoulders. He leans his head against hers, his mouth near her ear. “You know my mind…but not my heart,” he whispers. He can feel her tremble under his touch, but there’s no fear coming from her…something else entirely. Longing.

John turns her around, cups her face in his hands and gazes at her. “I want to get back home. I want to leave here because I don’t belong here. And, yes, I want to see Elizabeth again. I love her…but I’m not _in-love_ with her.”

Her forehead creases and John smoothes away the wrinkles with his thumb. “There is a difference, Ashri.” He leans down, brushing his lips over hers like feathers before gently moving in for a kiss. Her lips are as soft and sweet as the dream and John has to rein in his passion. He breaks away and presses his cheek against hers.

Ashri’s right hand comes up against his temple and suddenly they’re on the grassy hill again, overlooking the Golden Gate Bridge. As before, she’s leaning her back against his chest and he’s tracing a finger down her bare arm. She turns so that she can see him fully. “What is this…make-love?”

John’s thrown and not just by the sudden change of environment. “Uhmm. When two people really care about each other…they sometimes…um--”

Ashri smiles shyly and drops her gaze to her hand on his thigh. “John,” she starts. “My father was a scientist. He explained about the act of procreation.” She looks him in the eyes again. “And my…cat, as you call him…has a single mate in the woods and several off-spring. They are mated for life.”

“Right.” John’s brows shoot up. “Oh? Well, then--” So she knows about sex or at least what it can lead too. “What was your question?”

“You said you love Elizabeth…but held inside that you will not make-love to her.”

“Oh…that?” Memories of past relationships flash through his mind in quick succession. He’s been the typical flyboy, woman in every landing strip…well, maybe not all of them. Still, he’d never use the term making-love with any of those women. There hadn’t been any real connection, other than physical. John has never had a problem keeping his emotions locked down, not getting too attached to any one woman, because he's always known that in the end, he’d do something to screw it up and she’d leave.

“Do you wish to make-love to me?” Ashri asks, pulling him out of the dark thoughts with a flick of her fingers against his thigh.

John caresses her face, traces his finger over her lips, locks his eyes onto hers, seeing that unconditional love mixed with something new…physical desire. The combination overwhelms him, making him want to run and hide for cover.

And what would he be hiding from? True love? Romantic love? Having someone in his life who will never give up on him, never leave him, who looks at him like he’s the only man in the universe. He’s spent so many years avoiding it, he’s forgotten there’s a part of him that needs it. _Craves_ it. His answer comes out almost as a growl. “Very much.”

Ashri smiles, her eyes wide. “I think I would like this. With you.”

“Oh…I don’t know--” he says, stomping on the brakes. It’s one thing to romance a gorgeous alien woman…another to romance one that’s never been…well, romanced before.

“I know you fear I am a child--” she says.

“No, I…uh--”

“I am not,” she says definitively. “I have seen your world through your mind. Learned from you even as you slept and recovered. I know you.” John’s at a loss for words. “If you do not wish to do this with me, I will understand,” Ashri says, smiling again.

And he knows for certain she would and she wouldn’t hold it against him. _Oh, man, wrong choice of words there!_ John swallows, trying to dislodge the lump in his throat. Sure she’ll understand…but would he? Here is a healthy, beautiful, sensuous woman offering herself up to him pretty much on a platter and he’s what? Gonna hesitate?

_Down boy. Good dog. Stay._

Ashri’s hand travels up his thigh, making him sit up straighter.

_Oh, that’s cheating!_

“Do not think, John,” she says, smiling again. “Feel.”

John closes his eyes, groaning away that nasty lump and that even nastier conscience. He looks into her, seeing everything about her, but still wanting more. He wants all of her. He needs her. “Yes…I want you.”

“Show me.”

“What?” He looks around. “Here?”

She shakes her head. They’re back in the cavern, her hand dropping away from his temple, gliding down to her side. John blinks, still not used to the sudden transition. He takes a deep breath as he looks down at her. “Are you sure?”

Ashri nods slowly, not taking her eyes from his.

But John’s hesitant. “You’re really sure?”

Ashri smiles as her hand reach behind his neck, fingers entwining in his hair and she brings his mouth back down to hers. Her lips move and part under his and he’s shocked and aroused the instant the tip of her tongue grazes the outline of his bottom lip.

John pulls back. She opens her eyes and stares questioningly at him. He places a couple of fingers over her lips. “Don’t read me.” She’s confused. John smiles. “Can you shut it down…our connection?” She nods once, slowly, obviously not understanding why he would want her to do that. “I don’t want you to know this vicariously, but feel it…for yourself.”

That shy smile he adores returns and she nods again. She closes her eyes briefly and John feels a coolness pull away from his mind. Not unpleasant and he’d had no idea it was there, but now he can tell they’re not linked any longer. The loss of her is physical, like part of him is missing and it makes him want her all the more. For the first time since waking up, John’s mind is all his own. But now he can feel the full force of his desire for Ashri. Subconsciously he repressed the fire burning in him, shielding her from his lustful wants. He hadn’t even realized it; however, now he knows for certain he not only, _desperately_ , wants this woman…needs her, but he is, amazingly, in-love. It’s not something he’s ever allowed himself to feel before, mostly from fear of getting his heart broken.

But his angel would never break his heart. Ever. He knows it instinctively, like breathing.

John cups her face again, staring deeply into her chocolate eyes, seeing complete and utter trust on her part, but unable to feel what she’s feeling. “Okay then,” he sighs heavily. Taking her hand, John leads her back into the nook and they sit facing each other on the bedding as they did before.

He traces a finger from her forehead, over her temple and behind her ear. Slowly, he moves it down to her neck then under the collar of her wrap. She smiles, shivering a bit. His other hand sinks into her hair and pulls her in for a long, deep kiss. John explores her mouth with his tongue as his fingers snake into her soft hair. She sighs against his mouth and seems to melt into him, her hands coming up to his chest, slowly moving over his shoulders to the back of his neck, pulling him closer. John’s heartbeat quickens and this time he doesn't fight the arousal tightening his pants.

 

~~~

Rodney checks his watch, taps it, shakes it then rolls his eyes. “Crap.” He catches Elizabeth’s concerned look, shakes his head and shows her his watch. “It stopped.” Elizabeth seems to relax a bit, though her arms are crossed and her shoulders look terribly tight. She could use a good massage. That’s someone they should have brought with them instead of Kavanaugh…a good masseuse. “Time?” he asks Grodin who’s standing at the other point of their little triangle in the Control Room.

“Two hours fifteen minutes.”

“According to my laptop experiments, that should just about do it.”

“Are you sure, Rodney?” Elizabeth asks.

He grins at her. “Yes. Even Carson agreed that after at least two hours the virus should be dead, probably sooner, but we wanted to err on the safe side.”

Elizabeth rocks on her heels. “Okay. Let’s do it.”

Rodney’s hand hovers over the power button. “Okay. Here we go. Power up.” He presses the button but nothing happens. No power. Zip. Zilch. Nada. He presses the button again and again, still nothing. Rodney exhales hard. “Well, that’s not good.”

Elizabeth and Grodin exchange strained looks that Rodney can only decipher as ‘I-told-you-so’s’.

With a sigh, Elizabeth turns to head out. “Good job, Rodney. Instead of limited power…we now have none. At all.” She looks at Grodin. “I’ll be in the infirmary.” Grodin nods, rolls his eyes at Rodney then sits back in his chair and pouts.

Rodney frowns at the panel. “It’s not my fault.”

 

~~~

John forces himself to take things slow. He wants to make sure she enjoys every part of this, as much or more than he will. His hand drifts down along the hem of Ashri’s wrap, stopping at the belt securing it.

They’re breathing in unison now, only momentarily breaking from kissing to catch their breath before attacking each others lips again. John’s sure Ashri learned most of this from his mind, probably while he was still unconscious. He hopes she doesn’t try to re-enact anything she remembers just to make him happy. He wants the experience to be theirs alone.

Finally he pulls his lips from hers; leaving them both panting, John drops his hands to the belt and tugs it apart. The wrap falls open slightly, giving him a teasing peek at the wonders beneath. With both hands, he ever-so-slowly pushes the wrap open and off her shoulders, his eyes devouring every silken inch of her. It drops behind her and Ashri pulls her arms free of the sleeves, making no attempt to hide herself from his hungry eyes.

Wanting to keep things even, John pulls his own shirt over his head and tosses it aside. She’s seen him this way before, but John can tell as her eyes wander over his body, studying him, she’s looking at him differently. Her fingers float to his chest and gingerly trace a path from his collar bone to his belly, sending jolts of pleasure into his already tense abdomen. He wants to devour her with his mouth, his hands, but holds off, letting her explore him with her delicate, feathery touch. She seems fascinated by his chest hair and her fingertips dance over it; tickling him and making him chuckle.

Ashri pulls away, a look of worry in her eyes. John smiles as he grasps her fingers and guides them back to his chest. At the same time, he draws a finger across her collar bone toward the concave at her throat. His plan is to take it slow, excruciatingly slow if possible. That is until her light touch hits his nipple, sending him into a frenzy of desire. John pulls her in for another kiss, crushing her against him, this time demanding she open to him. She doesn’t resist, instead weaves her fingers into his hair and pulls him closer. He guides her back onto the pillows, lifting her coiled hair above her head and out of the way.

His free hand succumbs to his wants, fingertips traveling over her supple skin until they come in contact with a full breast. John gives as good as he got, lightly teasing her nipple with his thumb. Ashri gasps at the unfamiliar, tantalizing caress. John smiles against her skin as he abandons her mouth, his lips and tongue making their way across her jaw line to her ear. He suckles the lobe and flicks his tongue behind it. She shudders under him and a whimper of pleasure escapes her throat.

John stares at her, surprised by the sound. “So you do have a voice…somewhere.” Her brows furrow and she looks at him quizzically. John smirks. “Perhaps it needs some coaxing?”

Maneuvering above her, he trails his kisses down her neck and over her shoulder, both his hands now exploring, tender and teasing, bringing more gasps from her. She trembles at his every touch. John pulls back, gazing down at her. Her eyes are closed and her lower lip caught between her teeth. Ashri opens her eyes, and John smiles at her, and then continues his tender assault as his lips explore unknown territory. Finally his mouth captures the sweet mound. Her grip on his head tightens as she arches against him, and a groan rumbles in her throat.

Her leg caught between his slowly rises, rubbing him in just the right way, and John grunts as he feels himself growing. His pants are too tight, painfully constricting, but he’s not ready to go to that step. He has too many places to explore before that point. John moves to the other breast, suckling and teasing, bringing another audible whimper from her. Pushing himself up so he can look down upon her, he’s struck by the dichotomy in her eyes. So much innocence and yet so much desire. Hungry for the feel of her lips on his, her chest against his, John lowers himself down and takes possession of her mouth again.

Instinctively or not—he’ll probably never know—Ashri welcomes his body against hers, wrapping her arms around his back, spreading her fingers across his flesh and separating her legs around his. A deep moan pulses from John as their hips meet. Her acceptance fuels his desire beyond reason. He’s never wanted anyone so much. His hands start their travels again, at a less leisurely pace, trickling down her sides, sending more shivers rushing through her body. John wants to feel all of her, wants every inch of her to know his touch.

Bending his knees, he lifts his weight, allowing his hands access to her flesh. He presses one palm against her breastbone, feeling her heart pounding. The other hand caresses the raised thigh still covered by the wrap. Leaving only his fingertips on her chest, he traces the way down to her belly. Ashri draws in a sharp breath. John pulls away the remaining wrap, leaving her fully exposed beneath him. This time he doesn’t care about even. He wants to explore her without hesitation or distraction. Ashri pulls at his shoulders, lifting her head so she can capture his lips again, but John removes her hands, presses her against the pillows and raises her arms above her head. The questioning in her eyes makes him smile slyly. He caresses her chin with the back of his hand. “I want to show you something else.”

Ashri lies back, resting her arms above her head as John trails kisses down her body. When his mouth and tongue stop at her belly button, her breath catches. John glances up at her and smiles. “That’s not it.” His kisses continue lower, reaching the core of her pleasure and Ashri cries out, her body quaking.

The rush of broken sound from her unused vocal chords nearly drives John to the edge. Her breath comes in rasps, her muscles spasm as John continues his intimate caress with his tongue. His fingers dance over her inner thighs then find the destination he’s dying to know better. Ashri’s back arches at his invasion and another moan explodes from her throat as unfamiliar pleasure pulses through her body.

Unable to withhold any longer, John strips away his pants, and lowers himself onto her full length. Ashri opens her eyes and tears drip over her temples. “Are you okay?” She smiles and kisses him, burying a hand in his hair again. Her other hand manages to sneak between them and she rubs her palm over his chest, across his nipples and down to his stomach.

This time, John’s breath catches. He groans against her mouth, reaches down and brings her leg up, resting her foot on the back of his thigh. It’s moments like these that he wonders if he’s going to go to hell. Maybe a special kind of hell.

Pushing his morale ambiguity aside, John guides her hand down past his stomach. He watches her face as she caresses him with a look of shock combined with intrigue at what she feels. He knows he won’t be able to hold on for long if she doesn’t stop this sweet torment so he pushes her hand away. She’s ready and waiting for him as he takes the final step. _Oh, God!_ Slow and easy, they join together. “Ashri,” his voice cracks. He watches her face, seeing her eyes fill with wonder. Then he starts to move, long, slow and deliberate.

Ashri’s eyes widen as he fills her body. Her eyes lock onto his, but she doesn’t touch his mind. Not that she has to; John can see the blush in her cheeks, the dilation of her pupils. Her breathing matches his and he can feel her heartbeat in time against his. She licks her lips and that single innocent motion causes John’s pace to speed up.

His mind reels at the feel of her, so smooth, so warm. And she smells like…honey. John kisses her neck, bringing his mouth down between her breasts then over to one, flicking it with his tongue before moving to the other. She raises herself up against his mouth. Then her hands are on his cheeks, pulling him toward her, a thumb brushing over his lips.

He kisses her again, mirroring his body movements with his tongue. He wants to take it slow, but— _ohmigod_ —she surrounds him so completely, her satiny skin caressing his, and not a speck a space between their writhing bodies. It’s when she raises her hips up to meet his and starts to move against him that his mind loses control and his body takes over. Faster, deeper he pushes into her, one hand cupping a taught breast, the other reaching down to guide her other leg up. He reaches under her, cupping a smooth cheek, raising her up higher, forcing their bodies together to create that special friction.

John’s groan echoes in the small chamber as he drops full weight onto her again, rubbing his chest against her hard nipples, his fingers tangling in her a hair, gripping her scalp, his body thrusting both of them beyond thought, beyond words, where only touch matters.

She’s gasping against his cheek and he’s grunting into her neck as they move, her fingers digging into his back, urging him on until her body shakes and quivers in a final surrender. “John!” she gushes, barely audible, with almost no voice behind it as she goes over the edge. Hearing his name, John attacks her lips, savoring the sweetness as he’s pushed right over the brink with the most amazing, intense release of his life.

 


	5. Isolation

**DAY 32**

Carson needs to take his own advice and get some sleep, but his mind refuses to shut down.

He checks Teyla’s eyes with his pen-light. Her pupils constrict then dilate when he flicks the light away. “Hello, luv. I knew ya were in there somewhere. You stay strong, lass. Keep fighting. We’ll find a way to fix ya. I promise.” Then he moves on to Ford, getting the same reaction from the young man’s eyes. Carson sighs, but his heart is happy. As long as there’s neural reaction, he has hope.

Hearing and feeling his stomach rumble, Carson heads out to the Control Room. He’s found the only way to make sure Dr. Weir continues eating is to grab her anytime he’s hungry and make her go to the mess hall with him. So far, she’s been very cooperative, worrying Carson even more.

He and McKay take turns babysitting their boss these days. He can see the limited hope in her eyes dwindling every day the power is not restored. Aside from Dr. Weir’s physical health, he’s quite concerned with her mental state. She’s not grieving properly for Major Sheppard or the Stargate itself. Basically they’ve all been hit with a one-two punch by losing the Major and their only hope for ever returning to Earth.

Worse than that, Carson fears the woman is in a serious case of denial, if not full-blown depression. Both he and McKay think she believes the Major is still alive and can be rescued as soon as the gate is active again. Far be it for Carson to dash her hopes, but he’s extremely distressed about what will become of Dr. Weir should the truth be the opposite of what she wants. If, in fact, Major Sheppard is dead, the recovery of his body may be the final weight on her shoulders, effectively crushing her completely.

That’s the thought that keeps Carson up at night.

He passes the Three Musketeers, or Stooges, depending on how one looks at them, as they continue arguing about the loss of power. Dr. Grodin, Dr. Zelenka and Dr. McKay have their hands full with the problem at hand, but Carson feels sorry for the Brit and Czech, they have the weight of McKay’s ego to contend with as well. McKay refuses to take responsibility for the crises. Carson gives him some credit, he did say turning off the power might not kill the virus; however, they have no way of putting that to a test, since he couldn’t reinstate the power after the blackout.

Luckily the two PJ generators are fully functional and don’t seem to have a trace of the virus, so Teyla and Lt. Ford should be fine for the time being. Deep down, Carson has no doubt Rodney will eventually solve the problem. The man is a genius after all…and he never lets any of them forget it.

Carson can see from the Control Room that Dr. Weir isn’t in her office so he turns the other direction, finding her on the outside balcony over-looking the dormant city. “Dr. Weir?”

She glances over her shoulder at him. “Good afternoon, Carson.” She turns to the beautiful vista. Though he misses seeing her ready smile, Carson’s content with the fact that her features are no longer sunken in, her eyes are bright and alert—if sad—and she seems to have put on a pound or two recently. Almost back to normal. Almost.

“I was on my way down to the mess for lunch, lass. Will you join me?”

She’s leaning heavily on the balcony. “I was just thinking of lunch.”

“Good then--”

Now she turns to him, tilting her head like a child who wants a favor. “Could we…eat out here, today?”

Carson raises his brows. “You mean, like a picnic? Sure, that sounds lovely.”

She smiles a bit at that before turning her attention towards the water. “Good.”

Carson quirks his mouth, seeing that she has no plans on leaving that spot in the near future. “How’s this then. I’ll run down and grab up some food and meet you back here in a few minutes.” She nods. “You’re not gonna run away from me are you, Dr. Weir?”

She hangs her head, looking back at him with a slight grin. “No. I’ll stay put.”

“Good then. Be right back.” Carson shuffles off toward the mess, again passing by the ‘Bickerson Trio’ only to stop for a moment and interrupt. “Dr. McKay.”

“What!”

“I’m on the way to the mess. Would any of you like something to eat?”

McKay lifts his chin and narrows his gaze down his nose. “What’s good down there?”

Carson shrugs. “Not much these days. We got some fresh fruit from the Athosian’s, but other than that, MRE’s, I suppose.”

“Hmm. Yeah. Bring what you can; it’ll be good for us to keep working.”

Carson catches the eye rolls from Grodin and Zelenka before he heads down the corridor.

~~~

He’s created a monster, and he’s loving every minute of it.

John wakes feeling amazing, and not only because Ashri has taken it upon herself to explore his body to wake him up every day, though that’s definitely part of it. He relishes the feel of her fingers dancing over his belly, slowly moving lower. It’s when she grips him that he’s fully awake and instantly aroused. Ashri gasps, taking her hand away, leaving him groaning at the loss of her touch. Locking his eyes with hers, he maneuvers her hand back to that delicate area.

John’s lost track of time since they first made-love and has no idea how many hours or days since then that they’ve spent naked in each others arms. They’d occasionally stop making-out and petting each other like lust-crazed teenagers long enough to eat, but after a while even food got incorporated into their round-the-clock ‘I-want-you-now’ party. John’s never been this insatiable before and it kind of scares him. But not enough to stop.

Her hand engulfs him and starts to move. It’s not long before he’s guiding her to his lap, her legs wrapped around him, ankles crossed behind his back and they’re locked together, moving in a rhythm all their own. Her face blushes with passion and she glows with her love for him. They rock against each other, burning with unquenchable desire, needing only this place, this time. His excitement turns to rapture, his arms encircling her, crushing her chest against his and pulling her lips in for a devouring kiss.

Her fingertips dig into his scalp as their tongues intertwine, seeking each other out. Her legs tighten around his waist, her body moving in time with his, taking all of him, making him feel invincible. Ashri breaks the kiss, throwing her head back with a gasp, her muscles tensing and fluttering around him. He trails his mouth down her throat, to the concave, where he flicks his tongue making her moan. He starts a slow descent towards her breasts when she lifts his face to catch his eyes.

She rarely closes her eyes when they’re like this. Her gaze stays attached to his, sometimes with her hands cupping his face, or moving over his chest, needing the tactile sensation of his skin. It’s as if she’s afraid he’ll disappear.

Ashri smiles as she reaches down, taking his hand and places it against her temple, covering it with her left hand. Then he feels the familiar tingle of her right palm against his temple as it starts to glow. He sees her left hand over his shine as well. It seems to be forever since they’ve made this kind of contact. Ashri took his request of breaking it to the extreme, actually denying him the feel of her mind on his, teasing him into begging for her thoughts as he might have begged for sex. Only she refused.

And now he knows why.

White-hot her mind latches onto his, not with images, but with emotion, passion, overwhelming desire and pleasure…a feverish touch that sparks him into overdrive. The feelings, the thrill of them together, all of it coming from her in waves of pleasure and she’s sharing it with him; it’s almost too much to take.

At the same time, she’s accepting his thoughts and feelings into her mind, increasing her thrill, feeling his pleasure then mirroring it back to him combined with her own. It’s a crazy hall of mirrors as their senses mingle and bounce off each other only to be reflected by each other. John’s sure he’s either going to go insane or pass out from sheer bliss.

His body shakes, his muscles instantly on fire. Ashri clings to him even as he flips her onto her back, taking control and pushing them faster and harder than ever before. Keeping the connection only spurs on their desire, leaving them groaning and panting, climbing together to the ultimate peak where they both explode as colliding stars. One body. One heart. One mind.

They fall, drifting in the overwhelming joy they've created, locked together as darkness comes for them.

~~~

_“We don’t leave our people behind!”_

“That’s where he was standing when he said it,” Elizabeth tells Carson as they sit across from each other on the balcony floor, sharing an impromptu picnic. She’s pointing to the spot where John stood that first day, pretty much telling her to get her head out of her ass and pay attention to him…because he knew best. She chuckles lightly. “I was so pissed at him. And I think he was equally pissed with me.”

“But you agreed, in the end,” Carson says.

She smiles at the memory. “He was…compelling. But I made sure he understood where I was coming from. It seemed to be the very beginning of our strange, symbiotic dynamic. We instinctively knew to trust each other.” She shrugs. “Or maybe I’m over analyzing.”

“Oh, I don’t think so, lass. We’ve all seen how well you work together for the same goal, even if you both go about it differently.”

Elizabeth smirks. “That your polite way of saying we butt heads?”

Carson raises his brows and rocks his head. “Head-butting aside. You and the Major worked well together.”

She drops her eyes from his and picks bread crumbs off her pants. “Worked,” she sighs. After a few moments, she looks up at Carson again. She shakes her head. “He’s coming back, Carson. I don’t know how or why I feel this way. But I do. It’s very strong. And I don’t think I’m going crazy. I simply know he’s out there…alive.”

Carson pats her knee. “I hope you’re right, Dr. Weir. I really do. But--”

“You think I’m crazy.”

Carson chuckles and shakes his head. “No. You’re hopeful. And there’s nothing wrong with that. We all have hope for something. If we didn’t, we wouldn’t be able to climb out of bed every morning. It doesn’t make you crazy.”

“But--” she says back at him, raising her brows. “You’re afraid I won’t be able to handle the disappointment if the time comes.”

He looks so full of sympathy and compassion when he matches her gaze. “Aye. I am indeed.”

Elizabeth nods. “So am I.”

 

**DAY 57**

Elizabeth follows Peter down the stairs to the Control Room. It’s early morning and the sun is shining through the stain glass windows, leaving beautiful mosaics on the floor. If it wasn’t for the perpetual silence of the city, Elizabeth would be able to relax and enjoy the wondrous colors. Instead, she’s a bundle of nerves.

She didn’t sleep well, her mind kept wandering to the first day she and Sheppard argued on the balcony. It’s been nearly two months since he was left on Luminance. What must he be thinking? Does he believe they’ve abandoned him for dead? How many times has he tried to dial home only to get a busy signal?

Then the darker thoughts hit her. She pushes those aside. Like Carson says. Hope is not a bad thing. Until she sees for herself, Elizabeth refuses to give up on her friend.

_Friend? Is that all he is, Liz?_

Peter, thankfully, interrupts her thoughts. “He refused to rest. Said he’d be up until he fixes--” Peter stops suddenly and Elizabeth looks up at the reason: McKay’s snoring away in a chair with his feet up on the console.

“I can see that,” Elizabeth says. “Dr. McKay.” He mumbles something in his sleep. “Rodney.”

He opens his eyes sort of, peeking through have closed lids. “What…I’ll get right on that.” Then he seems to see them and make a conscious connection to reality. “Oh, it’s you. Look, I’ve been working really hard--”

Elizabeth tilts her head. “Did I say anything?”

McKay scratches at his beard. She’s hoping that’s the first thing gone when they get back to normal. There’s that word again. _Hope._ Well, John told me I’m extremely optimistic, can’t let him down now.

Making a pained face, McKay gets up and stretches. “It’s written all over you face.” He cracks his back, wincing. “I figured out the problem…only that created another problem.”

“Okay…start with the first one.”

“The virus reeked havoc with the DHD and the Naquadah generators, once we killed the power, and—I’m surmising—the virus as well, we should have been rolling in kittens…”

Elizabeth opens her hands, palms up. “No kittens, Rodney.”

“Exactly. And not because we turned the power off. But because we waited too long to do it.”

“What?” Peter asks.

“Basically, we left our headlights on all night.” Elizabeth shares a confused glance with Peter before McKay adds, with his usual flair of ‘I’m-talking-to-idiots’. “Don’t you people have cars? Our batteries died.”

Elizabeth’s eyes open wide. “The generators are dead?”

McKay raises a finger. “Dead in that they have no juice available.” He presses his lips together in a tight smile. “We need a jumpstart.”

“That’s all?”

Elizabeth reflects Peter’s shock. “After all these weeks? It’s that simple?”

“Simple? I don’t think you’re grasping the gravity--”

Peter takes a deep breath, obviously seeing something that Elizabeth doesn’t. “Where do we get a jumpstart?”

“And there we have problem number two.”

Elizabeth remembers the generators Carson’s using. “One of the puddle--”

“Been there, failed at that. They’re fine as portable power supply for something small like what Carson’s using them for…but to restart a Naquadah generator?” McKay’s brows shoot up. “We need a lot more juice.”

Elizabeth glances from McKay to Peter then back to McKay. “So, what can we do?”

McKay turns to grab a chart. “I’ve been making some calculation…maybe if we find a way of tying all the power in the Jumpers together, while they’re running—which means we need someone capable of turning them on and keeping them on—then finding an umbilical long enough--”

Sudden whirring interrupts as the gate locks on with an incoming wormhole. Elizabeth rushes to the railing, heart wrenching at the thought of another attack by the Genii…or worse. And all the guards are on the mainland! Why didn’t she think about that! Sheppard never would have done that. McKay joins her, looking down at the gate as the whoosh shoots forth then settles into the shimmering event horizon. “Shield!” Elizabeth yells.

“No power,” McKay says.

“Isn’t that enough of a boost?”

“Hardly, we’ll need at least another--”

Peter pushes a button and the Control Room comes to life. “Then again.” McKay glares at the other scientist who gives him a wry smirk, engaging the shield. “Teacher's pet,” McKay grumbles.

Peter checks the monitor. “I…I don’t be…” He catches Elizabeth’s gaze and laughs out loud. “It’s Major Sheppard’s IDC.”

McKay’s jaw drops. “No shit?”

Elizabeth’s heart pounds in her chest as her body trembles with excitement. “Let him in.” Peter releases the shield and sends the okay back through the gate to Major Sheppard. A moment later, Elizabeth’s rushing down the steps into the gate room just as John emerges from the wormhole… uninjured, alive.

And...not alone.

~~~

John steps onto Atlantis and takes a deep breath. His heart races at the thrill of finally making it home. It took days, weeks even, for the storms to let up enough that he could attempt getting to the DHD. After that, he found it increasingly frustrating that he couldn’t get a lock on the address. He remembered when Ford dialed home they’d had a problem, but the second time it connected. This time it lasted almost too long. John was starting to feel comfortable with the idea of just him and Ashri. No responsibilities, no Wraith…

And then the gate locked.

Ashri was kind enough to offer a present upon her arrival so John carries it under one arm. The other arm’s wrapped around her trembling shoulders and both of hers around his waist, holding on for dear life. She’s overwhelmed, so he gives her a comforting squeeze and sends her all his love. That seems to ease her a bit, but she doesn’t release him.

John looks up, seeing McKay and Grodin at the balcony railing, both wide-eyed as if seeing a ghost. But it’s Elizabeth, stopped at the bottom of the stairs that pulls his attention. She smiles professionally, though her eyes gleam with unshed tears. “Dr. Weir,” John nods, resisting the urge to hug her in public. Ashri would understand…he’s not so sure about McKay and Grodin.

Elizabeth has her hands clasped in front of her as she takes a few steps forward, meeting them half way. “Major,” her smiles widens. “It’s good to have you back.”

“It’s good to be back.”

“I’m…almost speechless,” Elizabeth says with a laugh. “How did you manage all this time?”

“Mostly indoors.” He grins at Ashri as they share a brief memory then chuckles a bit. He looks back at Elizabeth. “Actually, I’m not sure how long it’s been…exactly.”

“Fifty-seven days,” Elizabeth says, holding his gaze.

“Wow….now, I’m speechless.” From the tone of her voice, John can tell it’s been a difficult time. “I take it that’s not the only thing to have gone wrong…me being away.”

“Not quite,” McKay says, suddenly by Elizabeth’s side, leaving John wondering when the man started moving so fast without going into respiratory failure. And who told him it was a good idea to grow a beard! “Is that what I think it is?” McKay asks, greedily eyeing Ashri’s present.

John turns to Ashri and grins. “Told you he’d like your house warming gift.” She smiles shyly in return.

McKay gently pulls the present away from John’s grasp and cradles it like a normal person would a baby. “A ZedPM!” He beams at Elizabeth. “They brought a ZedPM.”

“I see that,” Elizabeth says, still grinning. She turns her attention to Ashri, and John realizes he hasn’t introduced her yet.

“Sorry,” he says. “Dr. Weir, this is Ashri…the last of the Luminaté. Not to mention my personal savior. Ashri this is Dr. Elizabeth Weir.” Ashri nods to Elizabeth, still trembling a bit in his grasp.

Elizabeth offers her hand. Ashri looks at John questioningly, finds what she needs then turns back and gently takes Elizabeth’s hand only to send an intense jolt of static electricity into the other woman’s palm. John even sees the blue sparks leap from one to the other. Elizabeth retracts her hand, grasping it as if she’s been burned. “What the hell was that?” She rubs her palm, inspecting any damage.

Ashri immediately clings to John, terrified she’s done something horrible. John cups her face, smoothing her hair, trying to ease the panic in her eyes. “Shh. It’s okay. You didn’t mean for that to happen, right?” he asks. Ashri shakes her head ‘no’ so fast he’s afraid it’s going to fly off her shoulders. John hugs her close; she buries her head against his shoulder. “Are you all right?” he asks Elizabeth.

She shakes her hand, looks at the palm. “Yes. It doesn’t hurt now. Just a shock.” Elizabeth tries to catch Ashri’s gaze. “It’s all right, really.” She shows her uninjured hand to the frightened woman. “She’s very timid,” Elizabeth whispers to John.

“It’s a long story,” John says, rubbing his hand over Ashri’s shoulder.

Elizabeth smiles at that. “Well, then. I look forward to reading your mission report. I have a feeling it will be very…” she pauses then her smile widens, “enlightening.”

“How long have you been wanting to say that?”

Elizabeth giggles, very unprofessional of her, and John loves it. “Forever it seems.” She tilts her head to the side, eyeing him. “Glad I got the chance.”

This time John pulls away from Ashri enough to take Elizabeth’s hand and squeeze it. “Me too.” After a moment of tactile proof that he’s truly home, they release each other. “So, how have you been getting along without me?”

“We had a wake,” McKay says enthusiastically, finally pulling his eyes away from the ZPM.

“Good turn out I hope.”

McKay nods side-to-side and scrunches his face. “Moderate. You know, free booze and all.”

Elizabeth chuckles a bit, motioning to the corridor. “I’m assuming you’d like to get settled. Why don’t you find Ashri a room and then come see me?”

John narrows his gaze. “You don’t want us to see Beckett first?”

“It can wait a few minutes.”

John’s weary. It’s not like Elizabeth to suspend protocol. “What’s wrong?”

“We’ll talk in a few minutes. After that, I’d like Dr. Beckett to have a look at both of you.”

“Okaaaay.” John turns to Ashri. “We’re going to my room first and in a little while Dr. Beckett will want to run those tests I mentioned.” Ashri nods.

~~~

Elizabeth’s thrown a curve ball and doesn’t know how to respond. “You’re room?” A flutter of something—apprehension maybe—tingles her stomach and she’s suddenly tense again.

John raises his brows, all innocent. “Is that a problem?”

“No…I…it’s just,” she clears her throat. “The quarters are awfully small.”

John offers a lop-sided grin that hides more than it reveals and Elizabeth feels a zing of pain in her heart. “We’ll manage,” he says with a light chuckle before heading off towards his quarters.

Elizabeth’s gaze follows them and she doesn’t even realize that McKay is still there salivating over his new toy. “A ZedPM…he brought us a ZedPM,” Mckay hollers again, his excitement reminding her of a kid on Christmas day.

“Yes, he did,” she says, still looking after the departing couple. _Couple?_

“We’ve got a problem!” Peter calls from the balcony pulling her attention.

“Oh, that’s unusual around here,” McKay jibes, back to normal.

“What is it, Peter?”

“The virus…it’s back.”

Elizabeth and McKay exchange tired looks. “Of course it is,” they say together.

~~~

John gives Ashri the two-second tour. After all this time in the cavern, even in the nook, he’d forgotten how small his room really is. Still, he figures it’ll only be temporary. The city’s huge, and with the ZPM they should be able to open it up a bit more, find larger quarters. He sits on the bed and bounces. Ashri’s not impressed, she cocks a brow at him and it makes his stomach quiver.

Her facial expressions have changed as they’ve grown closer. The innocence is still there, but she’s seen enough of his mind to lose some of it. That’s the only part he regrets. But Ashri’s strong and he knows she can hold onto what makes her special. Besides, some of those new looks are damn sexy. “I have to do this meeting thing and then I’ll come get you. After we see Dr. Beckett, I’ll show you around, okay?”

Ashri nods with a smile, she feels safe in this room. Acclimating her to the city and the people is going to be more difficult. Having been alone for so long, she’s probably going to be fearful of others. But he plans on being there, every step of the way.

John starts to go, but she touches his shoulder and he turns around. Ashri grabs him by the collar and pulls him into an intense, hot lip-lock. John’s mind and body meld with hers so instantly he has a difficult time pulling away. He knows if he doesn’t back off, it’ll be too late and they’ll be having another naked party.

Suddenly, Ashri breaks the kiss, smiles slyly and pushes against his chest, sending him towards the door. He almost stumbles from the passion induced daze, but manages to stay upright. “It’ll be a fast meeting,” he heaves. Then with a wicked grin, adds: “Promise.”

~~~

John and Elizabeth walk swiftly through the corridor towards the infirmary. “You should have told me when I first got back,” he growls.

“I didn’t want to alarm your guest. Besides, there’s nothing you could have done for them that couldn’t wait five or ten minutes,” Elizabeth explains. The infirmary doors are already open, due to the return of the virus as Elizabeth explained. “They both lapsed into coma nearly a week ago.”

Beckett turns when he hears Elizabeth’s voice and the look on his face would make John laugh if it wasn’t for the fact that Teyla and Ford are at death’s door. “Major?!”

John moves between the twin gurneys. “I know, it’s great to see me,” he mutters dryly. “What’s wrong with Ford and Teyla?”

“Dr. Weir--”

John grasps Teyla’s cold hand, noticing the bluish tint to her skin. “She gave me the hi-lights. What are we doing for them?”

“I’m sorry to say there’s not much we can do. I’ve found no way to kill the virus…except possibly to take away its food source.”

John snaps his gaze at Beckett. “So, what? We can only wait and watch them die?”

_No._ He hears her before seeing her in the doorway. Again, he’s struck silent by her ethereal beauty. She almost floats as she comes inside the room and joins him at Teyla’s side. _I know this illness,_ Ashri tells him. When he raises his brows, she smiles. _Whooter._

“Can you?” John asks. Ashri caresses his cheek with one hand and smoothes the worry lines from his forehead with the other then kisses him lightly.

_They are your friends._

“John?” Elizabeth starts, but he holds up a hand.

John kisses Ashri’s cheek before backing away to stand with Elizabeth and Beckett, leaving Ashri to do her work. She closes her eyes. Her right hand hovers an inch or two above Teyla, running the length of the Athosian woman’s body before returning to her forehead. Ashri opens her eyes, looks at John and smiles softly, making his heartbeat faster as usual. Returning her full attention to Teyla, she places her healing palm on the ill woman’s forehead, closes her eyes and concentrates. Her palm begins to glow.

Instantly, blue sparks of static electricity shoot from Ashri’s left hand, hitting the metal I.V. pole making it rock. Ashri jumps, breaking contact with Teyla. She looks at her left hand then raises confused eyes toward John. She glances briefly at Elizabeth then her hand again. John not only sees the confusion in her face, but feels her growing concern touch his mind.

Ashri closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. John feels the coolness of her pulling away from him, instinctively making him want to shout for her return. But he holds back. She must need all her concentration or she wouldn’t have done it.

With another deep breath, she returns to her position and begins healing Teyla. Ashri’s palm glows brighter than he’s ever seen. Her hand starts to shake and she automatically grips her wrist with her other hand to steady herself. Her forehead creases with concentration. Her eyelids tighten. Teyla’s body bucks and shakes.

“Convulsions,” Beckett yells, taking a step forward, but John grips the doctor’s arm, keeping him back. “She’s making it worse, son.”

“Just wait,” he says calmly.

Elizabeth turns to him. “How do you know?”

John looks into Elizabeth’s eyes. “Because I didn’t _survive_ the lightning strike.”

Elizabeth’s mouth opens then closes and she nods curtly. “Let her finish, doctor,” she says without breaking eye contact with John. Beckett wrinkles his face with concern, but makes no attempt to stop Ashri from healing Teyla. They all turn back to watch…and wait. After a few more moments, Teyla stops convulsing. Ashri pulls her hand away and moves to Ford’s bedside without hesitation.

Elizabeth and Beckett nearly fall over when Teyla sits up in the bed. She cocks her head a bit and smiles. “Major, it is good to see you.”

Elizabeth gushes an exhale. “It’s good to see _you_ , Teyla.

Teyla looks around, realizing she’s in the infirmary. “Did something happen?”

“You don’t remember?” Beckett asks.

“I was talking with Lt. Ford--” Teyla looks over to the other bed then back up at Elizabeth and Beckett. “I do not understand.”

Elizabeth sighs. “You’ve both been very sick.”

Ford’s body bucks in convulsions making everyone jump in surprise, even John. Elizabeth grips Beckett’s arm and they wait it out. As before, the convulsions stop after a time and a moment later, Ford sits up in bed. “That was weird,” he says. He looks at his audience. “Why are all of you staring at me?”

John grins as he reaches for Ashri. “Because, Lieutenant, you're half naked.” The others laugh as Ford looks down at his bare chest and quickly covers himself with the sheet. John takes Ashri’s hand and she turns to him, her face pale and sweaty. Her eyes roll back and she drops dead away into his arms. “Ashri!” He cradles her head, lightly taps her cheek, but she doesn’t stir.

“Here, son,” Beckett calls. “Bring her here.”

John lifts her easily and places her onto the gurney the doctor just rolled over. John smoothes the sweat-soaked hair from her face, noticing a long streak of white has appeared at her left temple. He suspected a while back that the initial white came from her saving him. Now he knows it. Beckett pushes John aside as he checks Ashri’s vitals. “Breathing’s shallow. Rapid heart rate.” After another moment he adds: “And she has a temperature.”

Elizabeth’s at John’s side. “That’s…the most…amazing thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Yeah,” he says, not taking his eyes from Ashri.

“She really saved your life?”

John finally looks at Elizabeth, seeing the awe in her eyes. “No. She brought me _back_ to life.”

Elizabeth nods, her face solemn at the mention of his untimely, though fortunately short, demise. Then she looks at Ashri, her eyes softening in understanding. “No wonder you’re so protective of her.”

“It’s not just that--” he starts but Beckett cuts him off.

“Major…do you want to explain this?” He says, lifting Ashri’s right hand and exposing her Wraith palm to everyone.


	6. Isolation

**POLAR OPPOSITES**

Elizabeth walks into the infirmary, seeing Sheppard hovering over an unconscious Ashri. It’s been a few hours since his return, but Elizabeth feels as if he’s not fully back. Yes, he’s alive and well…but he’s so distracted. So quiet. She longs to hear a sly wise-crack or see that jovial boyish smile with dimples. Something to prove to her he’s still the same John Sheppard.

But it’s this extreme protectiveness for the alien woman that concerns her most, right now. She knows how dangerous Sheppard can be when someone he cares about is threatened. She’s seen it first hand with the Genii; especially when he shot Kolya while the man used her as a shield. His intensity scared her, but at the same time, she knew he wouldn’t let her get hurt. When she sees him watching over Ashri, that intensity seems a thousand times more potent. He’d not only kill for this woman. He’d die for her in a heartbeat.

And yet, they’ve only just met.

Sheppard stirs, turning as he senses Elizabeth behind him. She nods, offering a smile of comfort. He nods back then instantly returns his attention to the other woman.

Two months…alone. _And she brought him back from the dead._   Elizabeth can’t even guess at the connection these two created, the shared memories, emotions. It’s incomprehensible for an outsider. Something that doesn’t exist on Earth. Possibly even a spiritual bond, on a level with…the Ancients.

The Luminance Temple, Sheppard surmised in the earlier debriefing, was some sort of observation out-post. Elizabeth wonders if the Luminaté were direct descendants of the Ancients. It would make sense. Teyla said they were powerful healers, very advanced. She wonders what they could learn from Ashri.

But fears that as well. The woman’s part Wraith! Even if only a small part, she has power in that hand. What if she decides, suddenly, to turn that power against someone instead of using it to heal? It can’t be beyond the realm of possibility. And this connection she shares with Sheppard. What kind of influence does she have over him? What secrets has she uncovered?

Elizabeth sets a hand on his shoulder and he looks up at her. “Dr. Beckett has asked for a meeting regarding this…issue. In an hour. You should get cleaned up.”

“I’m good.”

“John,” she says softly. “You need a break. Take a shower, change your clothes.” She catches the flicker of refusal in his eyes and adds. “Don’t make me order you.” Sheppard relents with a nod and a sigh, gently releasing his hold on Ashri’s hand, laying it on her stomach. Without another word, he walks out and disappears from view.

Elizabeth tilts her head, considering Ashri. She’s quite beautiful. Elizabeth can see why he would fall for her so easily. “There has to be more to it than that,” she says out loud.

There’s a flicker of movement under her lids. Elizabeth moves closer. Ashri slowly opens her eyes and looks directly at Elizabeth. Her gaze is warm, full of trust and compassion…like that of a child. Elizabeth’s drawn to her. She takes up John’s spot, gently touching Ashri’s shoulder. “It’s all right. You’re safe.” Elizabeth smiles kindly. “I wanted to thank you…for what you did. That was very brave of you.”

Ashri brings her finger up to her lips. “Are you thirsty?” Ashri shakes her head a tiny bit. She looks like she wants to say something. Elizabeth leans in closer, so she can hear the whisper. There’s a slight tingle against her temple, not unpleasant...

…Sheppard disappeared from view. Elizabeth tilts her head, considering Ashri. She’s quite beautiful. She can see why he would fall for her so easily. “There has to be more to it than that,” she says out loud. She hopes the woman will wake soon. She has many questions, but would also like to say ‘thank you’.

~~~

Only one door in the conference room remains open, and without the normal air-circulation due to another city shutdown, temperatures and tempers are rising in the confined space. Since their miraculous recovery, Ford and Teyla were subsequently discharged from the infirmary and they, too, are in on the meeting with Dr. Beckett.

McKay has taken some down time to sulk about the return of the virus, so John tapped him to watch over Ashri in the infirmary. Surprisingly, the guy didn’t balk at the idea or even make the tiniest fuss. He simply said, “Glad to have you back, Major,” and headed into the infirmary. For a moment John wondered if he’d dropped off into another of those crazy dreams he had in the beginning. Or if McKay was taken over by a pod person while he was away. Either way, it didn’t matter. The real battle followed.

He’s nearly shaking he’s so pissed. He can’t sit still, or even stand still for that matter. He can’t believe Elizabeth. In fact, he can’t even think of her as his friend right now. “I didn’t bring her here to become a lab rat!”

Dr. Weir spreads her hands on the table. “I understand that, Major. And I’m sympathetic. What Dr. Beckett is proposing is a few simple procedures. We need to find out what she is.” John glares at her for that last part.

“There’s no denying her extraordinary abilities,” Beckett says, trying to keep the peace.

“And we are all extremely grateful,” Weir adds.

“But, you still want to poke and prod her like a guinea pig!” John thinks he might lose his lunch right in front of them. It’d serve them right.

“Neither Lt. Ford nor Teyla have any lasting signs of the virus or even antibodies to it,” Beckett explains. “We need to understand how she healed them. What exactly happened.”

“So ask her when she wakes up.”

“She doesn’t speak,” Weir says plaintively.

John narrows his gaze. “Oh, yes, she does.”

Weir takes a deep breath. She’s wearing her ‘leader of the expedition’ hat combined with the diplomacy badge. “Major, I realize you’ve spent a lot of time isolated with this woman. But who’s to say she doesn’t have some sort of control over you? You said yourself, she’s telepathic. That you hear her voice in your head. Perhaps you’re not thinking--”

John slams both hands onto the table, rattling it and everyone sitting at it. “She. Saved. My. Life.” He points a harsh finger at Weir. “And for your information, she’s not in my head. She’s lying in the infirmary unconscious because she’s willing to put herself in danger to save people I care about. That’s _**who**_ she is! Do you get that? She almost gave her life for me…and now for my friends. And you want to punish her?”

“No,” Weir says. “Not in the least.”

“No, you just want to dissect her hand!”

Beckett leans in. “That’s not the case…exploratory surgery--”

“It’s barbaric!”

“Major Sheppard is right,” Teyla says softly. “You cannot assume this woman is yours to do with as you please simply because she is different from us. That would make you no better than the wraith who left its mark on her.”

“Of course not,” Weir says. “And we’re not talking about strapping her to a table and conducting experiments on her.”

“Damn right your not,” Ford says firmly. All eyes turn to the young man who’s spent most of the meeting watching in silence. “Look, she didn’t have to do whatever it was that she did to save us. Wraith hand or not. We shouldn’t even be having this conversation.”

John leans heavily on the table, facing off with Weir and Beckett. “You took your blood samples and when the power’s up, you’ll do that scan thing. But that’s as far as it goes. You touch her hand in any way other than to hold it, and I’m taking her back through the gate to Luminance.” He pauses long enough for Weir to catch his gaze. “The end.”

She seems to get his full meaning, knocking her off the scientific high horse and she drops her eyes from his in defeat. Dr. Beckett glances at Dr. Weir, obviously seeing their done and nods his head in agreement. “Very well. But I would like to speak with her, if that’s all right,” Beckett adds.

John stands up and opens his hands in acceptance. “I’m sure she’ll be eager to talk with you as well.”

Ford, Teyla and Beckett start to file out and John’s about to follow them. “Major, can I have a moment?” The others look back, offering sympathetic glances to both of them before disappearing from view.

John crosses his arms and waits. She rises from her chair and approaches him slowly, her body language open and friendly. She’s taken off her hat and badge and is back to being Elizabeth. But John’s still on guard. He got her to back down…but can’t ignore how far she tried to push him.

Elizabeth sits on the edge of the table and tilts her head, considering him. “You meant that, didn’t you,” she says, her soft voice filled with a mixture of concern and understanding. “You’d really take her back to that lonely planet…and stay.”

John raises his chin. “Yes.”

Elizabeth looks at her dangling feet and crosses her ankles. “I see.”

He raises his brows. “Do you?” He knows Elizabeth. Knows exactly how hard some decisions are for her to make. Take the whole Steve thing. She wasn’t thrilled about that and he was a killer. She must have known that Dr. Beckett’s request would only piss him off, so for her to even back it meant she truly believed it would not cause Ashri harm. The fact that she finally relented without pulling out the ‘science over military’ card means a lot. John can feel his hostility slowly ebbing and loosens his stance.

Though she keeps her eyes downcast, he glimpses a warm smile that tells him she’s sorry. “Actually, I knew we were in trouble the moment you arrived,” she sighs with a slight chuckle. “No one can hide those kinds of feelings. I guess I was in a bit of shock, what with having held your wake and all.” After a moment, she shrugs a shoulder. “I didn’t believe it, you know.”

“Believe what?” he asks. Elizabeth pulls her attention away from her swinging boots and looks him in the eyes. “Aaah. That.” John shoves his hands into his pockets. “I hope you didn’t make any bets, ‘cause technically…you’d lose.”

“Technically,” she nods. “Seeing you standing here…” she shakes her head. “You’re not the same, are you.” John shakes his head slowly, checking out his own boots for a second before looking up at her from under his brows. Elizabeth nods. “She must be some woman…to grab hold of your heart like that.”

John bobs his head, feeling the last of his anger subside. “She is.” He slides onto the table next to Elizabeth. “And when you get to know her…you’ll feel the same way.”

Elizabeth chuckles. “I don’t know what you’ve heard about me, Major…but I don’t swing that way.”

John laughs too, patting her knee. “You know what I mean.”

She drops her hand on top of his and looks up at him, smiling. “I’m sure you’re right.”

Sitting there, chatting with their familiar ease, John’s suddenly aware he’s been back several hours and hasn’t truly said hello to his best friend. He grabs her up in his arms, hugging her tight. “It’s good to be home.”

Elizabeth hugs him back. “Thanks for not staying dead.” John laughs and Elizabeth joins him.

~~~

It’s nighttime when Ashri finally stirs and opens her eyes. John’s sitting by her side, holding her hand in his. When she wakes, he lowers the safety bar on the bed and sits on the edge, tracing his hand down the side of her face. “You had me worried.” Ashri smiles weakly and blinks heavily as she leans into his caress. “Can you talk to me?” Blinking again, she shakes her head slowly. Picking up her hand, John brings it to his mouth and kisses the back. “That’s okay. You rest.”

John’s heart sinks. He hasn’t felt her presence since she pulled away from him to heal Teyla. It still amazes him that not once has he considered their connection invasive. He feels more awake…more _alive_ when they’re sharing. Without being able to sense her, it’s like he’s lost some of his sight and hearing. Colors are muted and sounds have an almost harsh quality to them.

Her eyes drift closed, though he can tell she’s struggling to stay awake, not wanting to take her gaze from his. Again, he gets the impression she’s afraid he’ll disappear and leave her all alone. John leans down and whispers into her ear. “I’m not going anywhere,” he says, then kisses her warm cheek.

~~~

Elizabeth sits up abruptly when she hears the power come back on. She was resting her head on her desk, not realizing she’d actually fallen asleep. She can feel a migraine brewing behind her left eye and presses her knuckles into her temple. She should be relaxed but there’s a knot in her gut that refuses to unwind. Ever since she sent Major Sheppard to clean up before the meeting with Dr. Beckett.

More than likely her body was rebelling against what her mind had permitted as acceptable risk. Never in her wildest dreams—hell, nightmares—did Elizabeth see herself or Dr. Carson Beckett akin to Dr. Mengele. And yet both had sided on the unimaginable conclusion that unnecessary exploratory surgery on an alien being was a good thing. She’s surprised John didn’t hall off and deck both of them. He probably should have.

Sleep hasn’t dissolved the tension, only added to it by giving her a kink in the neck. So now she’s wide awake, grumpy, in pain and looking up at McKay standing in her doorway, grinning like a fool. “The ZedPM’s in place and the virus is gone…so, all is well.”

“So it would seem,” she says, stretching her neck from side to side.

“What? We got rid of the virus…for the second and last time. We’ve got a zero point module that’s far from depleted and can easily run the shield for a few days.”

“Only a few days!”

McKay makes a face at that. “Unfortunately, yes. As soon as the generators are fully charged, Zelenka and I are gonna run some tests on it. Seems it may be similar to the one we found on M7G-677, only able to use its full potential on the originating planet. And from what Sheppard says, it works fine on Luminance.”

“Why?”

McKay shrugs. “Possibly the change in the atmosphere or a relation to the weapon that was discharged…could be anything really. The point is…it _does_ have enough juice to either run the shield or…” he bounces on his feet.

“Don’t keep me in suspense, Rodney.”

“A one-way trip back to Earth.”

“Really.”

“Pretty sure. Like I said, we want to run some tests. Anyway, it won’t necessarily matter once we go back to Luminance--”

“We won’t be going back,” she says quickly but firmly. The knot in her gut tightens.

“We’ll…what? Elizabeth are you serious?”

“Deadly.” Tighter.

As usual, McKay starts talking at the speed of light. “Look, we have control over the virus, know that anyone with the gene cannot catch it and it can only attach itself to an incoming wormhole and though I realize the lightning might be a big turn off--” he slows suddenly, going off on one of his tangents. “Though it does generate an enormous amount of negative ions which, by the way, is why people like waterfalls so much. Negative ions create this kind of euphoric, all’s-right-with-the-world feeling, while too many positive ions make you cranky--”

She knuckles her temple again. “Rodney.”

“See?” His smirk quickly fades at her scowl, but his speed picks up. “My point is. Major Sheppard said the storms are dying down, which means less lightning. Besides which, the temple he talked about is right next to the Stargate, I mean…right next to it. And there are at least three other ZPM’s just lying in wait…doing nothing. Possibly even some in the buried ruins of the city that we never got a chance to get close to last time…because of said lightning…but that’s…you know. Anyway, those things still have juice even after thousands of years, so a hundred or so should be nothing--”

“A hundred years,” she says, breaking his ramble. “Or longer.” Elizabeth can’t imagine that kind of solitude. A normal person would go insane living like that.

“What?”

“Teyla’s people lost contact with Luminance over a hundred years ago. More than likely at the time the Wraith wiped out the population…leaving Ashri alone.” Why didn’t she leave when she got older? Elizabeth shakes her head, knowing why. She wonders how Sheppard reacted the first time he saw Ashri’s palm. Probably not well, given his temper. And if he got passed it, they surely will too.

“Oh…I see what you’re…hmmm. That is interesting. She does look extremely good for her age, then. You know, I don’t think the Major realizes he’s romancing someone old enough to be his grandmother…” He makes a face. “That’s a bit disturbing.” After a pause he continues. “D’you think it’s something in the air? Or the water. Perhaps the ions are good for--”

“Dr. Beckett thinks it has to do with Wraith DNA.”

“The…really? ‘Cause I’m more along the lines of good food, good nature…I guess we should all be so lucky.” Elizabeth looks at him sharply. “Not to have Wraith DNA…except…did you see her hair? What I’d give to keep the rest of--”

“Rodney.”

“Yeah?”

“Not now.”

“Please, are you telling me you wouldn’t want to look that good 100 years from now? Who knows how long it might take her to look…forty.”

And here come the side cramps. Elizabeth winces when the intense sting hits her. “That’s the thing. We don’t know anything about her. For all we know, everything she’s told the Major could be a lie.” Tighter again. And now her head’s throbbing.

“I thought we established that _I’m_ the paranoid one.”

“I’m not--”

“What? Jealous?” She’s shocked silent by that. “C’mon, Elizabeth. She saved both Ford and Teyla and returned Sheppard to the fold, who I truly believed was a goner. And though she’s clearly enamored with the Major—which puts a smudge on her psych evaluation—whoever, or whatever she is…she’s on our side. So I say: yea for us.”

Elizabeth plants both hands on her desk and slowly rises, suffering silently as the pain in her side erupts. “You think my concern is based on petty jealousy?”

McKay raises his brows. “Isn’t it?”

Elizabeth blinks repeatedly. He can’t possibly be speaking to her this way!

And yet, he’s still rambling. “Hopefully not in respect to the Major’s feelings, but because you got used to him being your beck-n-call boy, your loyal companion who’d risk his life to save yours any day of the week and thrice on Sunday. Your puppy dog, if you will.” McKay shrugs. “Now there’s someone else holding his leash. Someone who saved _his_ life.”

Her mouth is open but all that’s coming out is a stuttering noise that defies description. For someone who speaks five languages, she’s finding it impossible to say anything at all. McKay’s always been obnoxious with his superiority complex, but he’s never been intentionally cruel…at least not to her. So he truly must believe what he’s saying.

“Elizabeth there’s nothing wrong with--”

“Get out!”

McKay jumps, his eyes wide, his face full of shock. It’s all she can manage but luckily proves effective. Without another word, he ducks out of her office and disappears from sight.

Elizabeth drops heavily into her chair, his words ringing in her ears. The knot in her stomach has moved to her chest, tightening around her heart. And the throbbing in her head sounds a lot like McKay singing: _jealous, jealous, jealous!_

Elizabeth clutches both sides of her head. “Shut up!”

~~~

Once Ashri’s fever broke and her breathing and heart rate returned to normal, Beckett permitted John to take her to his quarters. He knew from past experience that she’d probably need a few days of recuperation and she preferred having him by her side to comfort her. John explained that to Beckett and the doctor relented.

They’re lying face to face above the covers on the slim bed. Her eyes are closed, but his are open, watching for anything. She awoke a second time in the infirmary which is when he brought her here. She’s been asleep since, her eyes moving under heavy lids.

John wonders what she’s dreaming. Occasionally she whimpers and that’s when he takes her hand, rubs her shoulder or caresses her cheek…any contact from him seems to calm her into a peaceful rest. He also wonders how much of this healing thing she can actually take. There’s obviously a price…there has to be a limit as well.

Quite suddenly, her eyes open and look into his, alert for the first time in over a day. John’s heart swells. He’s missed her eyes as much as her thoughts. They’re so amazing. He’s never thought the color brown could be so enchanting. He’s always been a leg man before…and Ashri has some great legs…but her eyes do something to him. He could gaze at her for hours and never know the time has passed. In fact, he has done that…though they’d been doing something else at the time too.

She smiles, as if seeing what he’s thinking, though he doesn’t feel her inside. She’s probably just seeing his inner dog come out and play; he’s never been a subtle man when it comes to showing his desire. Her hand rests on his cheek, her thumb moving slowly over his skin, turning him to mush as usual. He, in turn, caresses her hair, tucking it behind her ear before leaning in for a soft kiss.

A jolt of electricity shoots from her lips, hitting his and they both fly off the bed in opposite directions like opposing magnets.


	7. Isolation

**ALL GOOD THINGS…**

Carson smiles. He’s not one to step into such things lightly, but her eyes are so open, so honest, he was willing to take the chance. It was not as the Major described, perhaps because the two share a different kind of connection. But he could clearly hear the lass’ voice in his head. She only had to touch him once for a brief moment then they simply sat facing each other. Carson asked her questions out loud and she answered them in a sort of hushed voice in his mind as if whispering into his ear. Her voice has a melodious quality that brings an instant smile to his face. All in all, it beat the hell out of cribbage.

The ability to hear one’s thoughts is something Carson never expected to experience in his whole lifetime. He was a bit weary about being too vulnerable, with his own thoughts exposed as it were. And he was afraid some of his more scientific requests regarding her would frighten the lass. But Ashri assured him that it is quite rare for her to be able to read someone. She’s as surprised by the connection to the Major as anyone.

_Thank you._

“For what dear?”

_Listening._

Carson pats her on the knee. “I’ll tell you what, love. It was my pleasure. And thank you for telling me how you healed them. It’s a big help. And I’m so happy you’re feeling better now.” She nods. “Good. Now, do you have any questions for me?”

She seems eager to say something, but holds back for a moment. Then her hand drifts to her throat and she makes a motion upward and out of her mouth. Carson nods. “You wish to speak as we do?” She nods. Carson sighs. “I don’t want to disappoint you, lass. But I’m not sure that is possible at this point. You’re vocal chords did not form as they should have and over time, without use, what is there has atrophied.” Ashri drops her eyes and nods her head, obviously saddened. “Perhaps with some vocal therapy we could work on it.”

This seems to encourage her. She looks at her hands, turns the palms up then raises her eyes back to Carson, he can see the earnest flicker of hope in them. _Could you…fix me?_

Carson’s eyes widen in shock. “Fix you? But you’re perfect.”

Her eyes drop to her hands again. She runs a finger over the ‘normal’ human left one and Carson understands. “You want to remove the Wraith part of you?” She nods, catching his gaze with those eager eyes. He can see tears slowly building. “But it’s a part of you, Ashri. It makes you special.”

_Please._

A lump forms in Carson’s throat as he feels sadness wash into him.

“We’ve come for the woman,” Major Sheppard interrupts in a low voice, his hands on his hips and chest out reminding Carson of a Superman pose. Ford chuckles behind him, though it’s Teyla’s expression that makes Carson smirk.

Ashri quickly wipes her eyes before turning to the Major, her smile radiating through the room. Though Carson feels his heart break a little for her, it also beats faster at the sight of her smile. He’s never seen that kind of affection before. Even from his mum, who loves him dearly, he knows. Major Sheppard must be overwhelmed whenever he sees her.

Ashri looks to Carson and he nods. “Out you go. Thank you again, my dear.” Carson feels something like a cool breeze pull away from his mind and the sadness leaves him immediately. Poor girl. He sighs. She may accept who she is, but that doesn’t mean she wouldn’t prefer being able to hide in a crowd, be exactly like other people. Obviously, it’s not just the planet Luminance that kept her alone all these years.

Carson gets up as the foursome is about to leave. “Actually, Major,” he says. “Would it be possible for you to stay a moment? Those test results are in and Dr. Weir is on her way down.”

Major Sheppard looks disappointed, but nods. He lifts Ashri’s chin with two fingers. “Teyla and Lt. Ford can show you around a bit. I’ll catch up in a few minutes. Okay?” He glances at Lt. Ford. “Try to keep out of crowds now that everyone’s back in the city. And steer clear of Bates.” The Lt. nods once.

Ashri looks from him to the other two. There’s some apprehension in her nod, but Teyla moves forward and offers her hand in friendship. “It is all right. We will not get too far from him.” This seems to ease her and the three head out, though Ashri and the Major hold eye contact until she is out of sight.

Major Sheppard rubs his hands together. “Let’s make it snappy, then, huh?”

Carson leads the way into the infirmary where his laptop sits on a counter. “Well, then…”

Dr. Weir appears in the doorway. “Teyla and Lt. Ford look like they’ve made a new best friend. I’ve never seen them smile so much.” She glances at the Major.

“Aye,” Carson says. “She does seem to have a positive effect on people.”

“You too, eh doctor?” Dr. Weir asks.

Carson shrugs as he opens up his laptop and turns it around to show them the results. “Major, you’ll be happy to know you’re just as healthy as you were pre-Luminance.”

“I could have told you that. In fact, I _did_ tell you that.”

Carson nods flashing a smile. “However, you’re brain scan does show a few differences.”

“Really?” Dr. Weir steps forward, an edge to her voice. “What kind of differences?”

“See here,” he points at the computer screen and both Dr. Weir and Major Sheppard lean in for a look. “Hi levels of dopamine in the subcortical region. And there’s activity in the right VTA and dorsal caudate,” Carson grins at the Major.

He raises his brows. “Okaaay…?”

Carson continues. “At the same time—and this is where it gets odd—there’s also increased activity in the ventral pallidum portion of the basal ganglia.” He smiles broadly, but the other two look at him as if he’s just grown an extra head. “This is unqualified. These usually don’t work in conjunction with each other.”

Major Sheppard shakes his head, brows creasing. “And this is bad--”

Carson chuckles. “No, son…sorry I don’t mean to alarm you. Basically, what I’m saying is. This is your brain on love. You’re swimming in it.”

“Oh.” His voice rises with joyful pitch followed by that familiar boyish smirk. “Well, I could have told you _that_.”

“The first part is based in romantic love which can dissipate with time. But it’s the second part that’s fascinating. That activity has been noted only in couples who’ve been together for a long time. It’s considered the attachment area. I’ve never heard of this happening before. Though it was a short time you spent on Luminance with Ashri, you’re brain chemistry is recognizing it as years.”

“How many years?” he asks.

“Oh, ‘bout fifteen to twenty, I’d say. That’s what the research on this kind of activity estimates.”

“What? So, my brain has aged?”

“No, lad, not in the least. It’s simply your—may I say—extraordinary connection with our new friend seems to defy the logic of space and time.”

Dr. Weir raises a finger. “But he’s okay.”

“Oh, perfectly fine. And so is the lass. Turns out her scan came up with the same results.” He winks at the Major.

Major Sheppard grins shyly. “Good to know.”

“Yes,” Dr. Weir sighs. “Fascinating, indeed.” She looks at Carson. “Anything else…about Ashri?”

“Aye.” He sets the laptop aside and crosses his arms. “She has the ATA gene, as Major Sheppard suspected, and a natural talent for using it if we go by the Major’s first hand account. Now, from Dr. Jackson’s SG-1 research and that of Dr. Fraiser of the SGC, we know the Ancients had the ability to heal through their hands. I believe that Ashri just might be genetically closer to the ancients than even her own parents, though don’t quote me on that.”

“How is that possible?” Dr. Weir asks.

Carson scratches his cheek. “It’s a theory. Given her unique abilities, it’s possible the Ancient genes were actually recessive instead of dominant and it took two parents strong in those recessive traits to pass them along.”

“So a one in a million shot.”

Carson smirks. “More like one in a billion, Major.”

“However, since I can’t distinguish the Luminaté traits from the Wraith without control samples, it’s impossible to determine what exactly happened to make her different and to explain the physical change to her hand.” He takes a breath. “Perhaps the interrupted feeding of the Wraith exposed her to a limited amount of the chemical they inject, which then mutated within the womb. But it’s only a hypothesis. I’m still waiting for some more tests, but aside from slight sodium and hormonal differences, she’s human…with a touch more.”

Dr. Weir nods and Major Sheppard nudges her shoulder from behind. “Told you.”

“And, how old is she?”

“That I cannot say. She lacks a concept of time. “Most likely due to her confinement in the temple. Given the Wraith DNA, it’s possible she hibernates as they do, but she could not confirm that.”

Major Sheppard makes a skeptical face. “She does sleep a lot when recuperating…but I didn’t see anything like hibernating.” He raises his brows. “She spent a lot of time in the pond, though. And it’s not like regular water.”

“How so, Major?” Carson asks.

“Seemed a little, I don’t know…heavier, thicker maybe. And it glows.”

“It glows?” Dr. Weir says with Carson.

Major Sheppard shrugs. “…when she saved me. The water kind of…lit up a little. Like turning on a pool light, but murky.” He wags a finger. “You know, now that I think about it. I’m not entirely certain it’s a real pond…I mean it’s real, but maybe the Ancients made it. Kind of like their version of an indoor-outdoor pool.”

“Hmm,” Carson wishes he could get a sample of that water. Maybe if McKay can find a way to convince Dr. Weir the virus won’t come back, she’ll consider permitting an expedition to the planet.

“So,” Dr. Weir starts. “Anything specific on how she healed Teyla and Ford?”

“It’s fascinating really. From the way she described it, I gather instead of automatically infusing either one with her ‘life force’ as you called it Major, she first…pulled the virus out of them.”

“She drained them?” Dr. Weir asks. “Like a Wraith?”

“Not really. She couldn’t explain exactly how she did it. Only that she made the virus come to her somehow. I believe she created an electrical field that attracted the virus into her. Afterward, she gave them whatever they needed to heal the damage done.”

“Wait a minute,” Dr. Weir raises a hand. “How’d she bring the virus into herself? You said it wasn’t contagious.”

“And it isn’t. But it is drawn to the strongest electrical source. When Ashri connected to Teyla and Lt. Ford, she became part of them momentarily. It’s hard to explain. Somehow on a molecular level, she joined with them.”

“Joined? Any lasting part of her left over?” Dr. Weir seems a bit concerned.

“No. They’re both back to normal.”

Major Sheppard looks worried as well, but Carson can tell it’s for a different reason. “Is she still sick?”

“No. I believe she simply pushed herself too hard by healing both of them in such a short period of time.” He locks eyes with Sheppard. “It’s her heart you know.”

“What?”

“It’s just too damn big, son.”

The Major nods in understanding. Dr. Weir looks skeptical, however. “So, she drew the virus into herself and starved it out?”

“Aye.”

“So her hand…does work like a Wraiths,” Dr. Weir says finally.

“Not this again,” the Major groans.

“John!”

“Dr. Weir,” Carson says. “I don’t think we have to worry about that. As I said, Ashri’s healing and mental abilities are more than likely inherited from the Ancients. Consider her mutation to be nothing more than an effective delivery system. I don’t believe the lass could hurt anyone even if she tried. She just doesn’t have it in her.”

Dr. Weir’s eyes narrow as she looks at the two men. “Very well. For now. Thank you, Carson. Major…a word please.” With that, she heads into the corridor.

Major Sheppard raises a brow at Carson, takes a deep breath and sighs. “Thanks doc.”

“Good luck, Major.”

~~~

The doors swish apart as Teyla and Lt. Ford lead a closed-eyed Ashri onto the balcony overlooking the city and ocean. It is a beautiful day, the likes Teyla has not seen in a while. A cool breeze floats in from the sea and the sky is mixed with all the hues of red and blue. Teyla takes a deep breath. She has not felt so invigorated in quite some time. She glances at Lt. Ford. He seems to share her energy; though that is something he is rarely missing.

They agree it must come from the woman who saved them. They have no memories of their time in the infirmary, however both share the same image, prior to awakening…a very pale and weak Ashri being surrounded and consumed by a dark shadow. It is as disturbing as it is startling, and though they have spoken of the memory, neither wants to bring it to the Major’s attention.

Teyla worries, for the Major’s bond with this woman is incredibly strong. She has seen such things in other couples, though it is rare among her people. Her father looked upon her mother in a similar fashion and in her mother’s passing; her father was never the same. Though from the short time Teyla has spent in the Major’s and Ashri’s company, she can sense something different…more profound. She would gladly share that bond with someone. It must be wondrous. Perhaps someday, she will have that gifted upon her.

But it is Ashri they are both watching for a reaction. “Open your eyes,” Teyla says. Ashri does so and gasps in what Teyla can only believe is amazement.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Lt. Ford asks, taking a deep breath of the salty air.

“It is breath taking,” Teyla agrees. She watches as Ashri moves closer to the railing and looks over the city. Ashri smells the air, takes a deep breath then turns to them with a huge smile.

“I think she likes it,” the lieutenant grins, bouncing his legs like a child.

Teyla agrees. Seeing Ashri’s lovely smiles brings her great joy. She is relishing the new found friendship she has with the last of the Luminaté. Having met this woman—though she grew up separated from her people—Teyla feels she must carry within her the generous nature of the once great civilization. It is astounding how close Teyla feels to the woman she has barely spoken to. She would swear they have been friends since birth, though she knows this is not true. Lt. Ford even seems a bit enamored of Ashri. Clearly, however, her heart belongs to Major Sheppard.

The only person not affected by this woman seems to be Dr. Weir. This causes Teyla some concern. She has always found Dr. Weir to be honest, forthright and a good judge of character. Perhaps she is seeing something they are not? Teyla hopes that is not the case. She has always believed in her ability to read people, as Lt. Ford calls it. And when she looks at Ashri, she sees nothing but a pure heart…a good spirit. Perhaps there is another reason Dr. Weir is restrained. A more personal reason Teyla does not understand.

~~~

Elizabeth keeps her pace slow. She knows he wants to rush away, back to Ashri’s side and though most of her doesn’t find a problem with that, part of her brain says: _stop! He’s not acting like himself._ “Tell me more about her mental abilities.”

“As in?”

“The sharing you mentioned. How does it work? What does it feel like?”

A smile spreads across his face, one that Elizabeth doesn’t recognize. He’s trying to decide what to tell her and what to keep to himself. Definitely not acting like the Major Sheppard she knows. _No, he’s acting like a man in-love._ Elizabeth accepts that, though it pains her to admit she’s not thrilled about it. She’s been spending all her waking hours trying to justify the nagging bit of hostility she feels toward Ashri. A woman she’s only known a few days, has never spent any amount of time with, not even spoken to, and yet she still finds…threatening.

“It’s…pleasant,” he says finally. “But what you really want to know is, does she control my mind.”

“If you feel you need to mention it.” John rolls his eyes. Elizabeth says, “You were alone with her for quite a while. And that whole thing with the brain scan…”

“Is nobody’s business. That’s just Beckett being Beckett. He’s like McKay, can’t keep a discovery to himself.”

“John, you must admit it is a little…odd.”

He stops in the middle of the corridor and turns to her. “It’s not odd, Elizabeth. They’re my feelings. I don’t have control over them any more than Ashri does.” He shoves his hands into his pockets and rocks on his feet. After a moment, he sighs. “It’s not about control. It’s more like having really vivid dreams. The kind when you know you’re dreaming.”

“When your conscious and subconscious meet.” _I love those dreams._ But this isn’t about that. It’s about John and this possibly dangerous woman who has him wrapped around her finger. Elizabeth would never think of Major Sheppard as ‘whipped’ but…

She knows she’s being irrational, but she can’t put a finger on as to why. Yes, John is her best friend, and, yes, she does love him, she freely admits that to herself. And it’s not like she’s blind, the man is extremely attractive. But she knows what it feels like to be in-love…she has that with Simon, not John. What she has with John is companionship, respect, esteem and trust.

_And that’s it. You trusted him…and he let you down._ Elizabeth shakes her head. No he didn’t. He’s right here. He came home.

“C’mon, what you’re really wondering is if she can read my mind…learn our secrets.”

“Can she?”

“It’s more about projection. Where she’s feeling or thinking something and lets me hear or see it.”

“Then how did she know to come to the infirmary?”

“She felt my concern for Teyla and Ford. It goes both ways.”

“Do you think it stems from her saving your life?”

_He died. He left you._

The thought’s as sharp as a slap in the face. It’s not Ashri. It’s John. The fact is…he _did_ die. The only reason he’s walking right beside her now is because of a powerful intervention, a divine gift. A stupid lightning bolt took him out and why? Because he got distracted by a pretty face. How typical is that. He’s such a…a…man!

“I don’t know how it works, Elizabeth. We did this combined sharing thing…I showed her about football and Ferris wheels…hotdogs, and it sort of snowballed from there.” He starts walking again, shrugging his shoulders. “We learned a lot about each other. Everything maybe. It was…intense. And like you said…we were alone for a long time. I tell you it seemed even longer than 57 days. Things happen when you’re isolated like that. Feeling come out…” That smile returns as he seems to lose himself in thoughts of Ashri again.

And there it is. The realization’s like that first jolt of caffeine in the morning. John is a man. Not some superhero sent to be her savior, or as McKay so annoyingly put it, her ‘beck-n-call boy’. Elizabeth mentally smacks herself for being such an ass. No, she’s not in-love with John Sheppard. But she doesn’t want him to be distracted from her either.

_Damn, Liz, how big is that selfish streak of yours. He’s happy. Don’t you want that for him?_   She sighs once the full force of her acceptance kicks in. Like a balloon being untied, the air seeps out of her hostility…John’s happy. Just look at that goofy grin. He’s never looked so adorable. And it’s because of Ashri.

Yes. John’s happy and it’s a wonderful thing. Suddenly, she feels like giggling. John’s in-love… it’s so sweet! His smile is contagious and Elizabeth feels one growing on her face.

“Just sit with her, Elizabeth. Get to know her. I know once--” He stops dead in his tracks, his breath catching with a sharp intake. A moment later, he’s flying down the corridor away from her.

“Major?”

~~~

John rushes through the doors and stops short seeing Ashri unconscious on the ground and Teyla reaching for her. A now familiar jolt of blue electricity tags Teyla in the shoulder, sending her back about two feet onto her butt. Teyla rubs the spot, there’s a burn mark on her shirt. John’s instantly at Ashri’s side, but she’s not moving. “What happened?” he asks Ford.

“She touched the railing and somehow got shocked. Like mini-lightning. Then she dropped. It all happened so fast. Less than a minute ago.”

John’s already lifting her as Elizabeth comes outside with McKay following a moment later. “What’s going on?” Elizabeth asks.

“We just got a huge power serge--” McKay stops, his mouth open. John pushes between the two and the doors part for him instantly. He can hear them talking behind him but rushes away.

“Sir,” Ford says. “How did you know?” At the same time Teyla asks, “Is this what happened to us?”


	8. Isolation

**MUST END**

Carson turns as Major Sheppard rushes into the infirmary out of breath, carrying Ashri. “Oh, what happened?”

“Electric shock,” he says. Behind him Teyla, Lt. Ford, Dr. McKay and Dr. Weir follow in quick succession but stand back.

“What?” Carson motions to a gurney. “Why didn’t you call me instead of bringing her down here? Her heart could have stopped.”

Sheppard gently lays her down. “It’s not like that doc.” He looks at Ford. “Tell him.” Just as Ford’s about to speak, Ashri’s arm falls to the side and blue bolts of electricity lash out at the metal IV stand, toppling it. The Major jumps back in time to avoid getting hit. The EKG monitor is not so lucky and it explodes!

“Bloody hell,” Carson gasps.

“Did I do that, too?” Ford asks.

The Major’s hovering over Ashri again and he glances back at Carson. “Guess you get to run your tests after all.”

Ashri’s back arches and a broken, breathy cry escapes as more powerful blue sparks shoot from both her hands, one jolt hitting Sheppard in the chest and sending him to the floor. Everyone ducks as the electric surge lances over the infirmary walls, ceiling…leaving a trail of black burn marks. Another monitor explodes.

“Jesus! What the hell was that!” McKay whines, looking over his shoulder at the damaged wall. “That could have killed me.”

Ashri drops back onto the bed, motionless. Sheppard, shaking off the blow, is off the floor and by her side in seconds. He cups her face, turning her toward him. “Let me, Major,” Carson says, pulling the man aside. Ashri’s clammy and her hair’s damp.

“Ohmigod!” Elizabeth’s remark catches Carson’s attention and he turns, instantly seeing what the problem is. Everyone’s hair is standing on end—even McKay’s—like they’re all drawings in some horrible comic book.

“She ionized the room,” McKay says.

Carson turns back. Sheppard has moved to the other side of the bed, taken her hand in his while gently tapping the her cheek, trying to bring her around. “It’s time to wake up, sweetie. C’mon.”

Carson’s concerned about making contact with the metal of his stethoscope, but he takes the risk. Her heartbeat is irregular. Breathing erratic. “Major, has this ever happen before?”

Sheppard looks up. “Just once. Three nights ago. When she finally woke up…I got zapped a bit. Actually, we both did. Not this bad, though.”

“That’s not the only time.” Dr. Weir says. As Carson turns, she takes a step closer to the bed, though the others understandably hang back. She catches the Major’s gaze. “Remember. When we almost shook hands that first day.”

“Right,” he says but adds nothing, returning his attention to Ashri, smoothing aside the hair matted to her face.

“Any time before that?” Carson asks.

“No, never. Talk to me, Carson. What’s going on?”

Carson shakes his head. “I’m not rightly sure, Major. I’ve never seen anything like this.”

Sheppard drops the safety railing on his side of the bed and leans over, his face only an inch or so from Ashri’s. He picks up her right hand and places it against his temple.

“Major, what are you doing?” Carson asks.

“She won’t hurt me.”

Teyla says, “I do not believe she wishes to hurt anyone.”

Carson looks to Lt. Ford. “Tell me exactly what you saw.”

“It’s like she’s turned into a human lightning rod,” Ford adds.

“We have to help her,” Teyla says.

“Can you be more specific, son?”

“Her hand touched the railing and suddenly these sparks…like these others…shot into her fingers.”

Teyla shakes her head. “I am sorry, Lieutenant, I do not believe that is what occurred.” She turns to Carson. “The sparks _came_ from her fingers, just as a moment ago.”

“How it this possible? People don’t create lightning.” Lt. Ford asks.

“McKay, what were you saying about lightning?” Dr. Weir asks.

McKay snaps his fingers as if trying to recall a memory. “Uhhh…It’s nature’s balancing tool. The more positive ions in the atmosphere, the more electrical storms occur to cancel them with negative ions.”

Even Major Sheppard’s attention is drawn to McKay after that. Carson’s sure he and everyone share the same ‘huh’ expression.

McKay nods and makes circling motions with his hands and talks at his usual speed. “If what Ashri told the Major is true, then whatever weapon the Luminaté used must have changed the planet’s original surface charge, and as a defense, mother nature or whoever, created the storms to return the charge back to its norm.” He tilts his head in thought. “Oh, this makes sense. The planet’s different from Earth…much more so than anywhere we’ve been. It’s ionic charge must differ greatly. That’s why it seemed like the lightning was targeting us. It was! Our innate ionic charge must be more positive than negative…that alone caused the planet to seek us out to… well…neutralize us.”

“That’s all well and good, Rodney,” Major Sheppard glares hard at the scientist. “But what the hell does it have to do with Ashri?”

McKay takes a step forward, the glee immediately fading from his face. “I’m sorry, Major. Her ionic charge is like that of Luminance. Her body is rejecting our atmosphere.”

Sheppard immediately turns back Ashri. Carson sees her eyes are open, gazing up at the Major. Tears spill over her temples and Sheppard wipes them away. Carson moves in. “Ashri, dear. Can you tell me what’s happening to you?”

Her eyes shift to Carson briefly and he can see the fear in them. She shakes her head slowly before looking back at the Major.

Carson glances Elizabeth, her eyes are wide, glassy and her mouth is moving as if she’s trying to speak only she can’t get the words out. “Dr. Weir?” She doesn’t respond. “Elizabeth!” Still nothing. Carson turns to McKay. “You’re the physicist, Rodney, tell me what to do.”

McKay stumbles over his words. “There’s nothing we can do.”

Ford steps over. “That’s not good enough.”

“We must help her,” Teyla says firmly.

“She has to go back,” Sheppard and McKay say at the same time. McKay looks shocked at his own words being echoed. Carson looks to the Major, he’s staring into Ashri’s eyes, caressing her forehead.

“To Luminance!” Dr. Weir shouts suddenly, and everyone turns to her. Carson can see the faintest trace of tears in her eyes, but she blinks them aside. “We can’t connect there again. The virus shut us down twice. It nearly killed Teyla and Ford. We can’t take the risk of getting re-infected.”

Carson’s sure he doesn’t like the dangerous gleam in the Major’s eyes as he gently lays Ashri’s hand on her chest and takes two long steps toward Dr. Weir. Instinctively, she steps back as he approaches. “If she stays here she’ll die,” Major Sheppard growls. Carson can hear the tremor in his voice, the pain and fear combining.

“You don’t know--” Dr. Weir starts, only to be interrupted when Ashri’s back arches again and electricity leaps from her hands. Only this time she seems able to contain the outburst, forcing the energy to encircle her body…containing the damage. The charge dissipates and she drops limply onto the bed, once again unconscious.

Carson checks her. “If this keeps happening, her heart will stop. She’s still basically human, Elizabeth. Nobody can take this kind of assault. If McKay’s right…then Luminance is the only place she’ll survive.”

Dr. Weir turns to McKay. “And there’s nothing we can do for her?”

He shakes his head. “There’s no way to create the ionic atmosphere she needs.”

“Then we dial out, but no dialing back in,” Dr. Weir says to everyone’s surprise.

“You’re telling me not to come back,” John says. The shock on Dr. Weir’s face says she hadn’t thought that part through.

“But--” McKay starts.

“No, Major. I can’t risk losing you…with the Wraith…” She takes a deep breath. “We just send her.”

“Look--” McKay says.

Sheppard slides in closer to Dr. Weir, but this time she doesn’t back down, though in Carson’s opinion, it’d be the smart thing to do. Carson’s seen this edge in the Major’s face before…and it scares him. “What do you expect me to do? Toss her through?” He points at the bed. “Look at her, there’s no way for her to walk out of here. And I’m not leaving her there without knowing she’s all right. So, either I say goodbye now or I come back…it’s up to you.”

“I’m trying to protect all of us, Major.”

“Listen--” McKay holds up a hand.

“At Ashri’s expense?!” Sheppard yells at Dr. Weir.

“I don’t like it either, John--”

McKay takes a chance and steps between the two, not the brightest move in Carson’s book. Then again, he might just be saving Dr. Weir’s life. “I have an idea!” They both glare at McKay and he starts rambling. “We take the Zed PM off–line. Shut down all but the control room generator. When Major Sheppard returns, we trade out. Once contained the virus can’t jump to another source. So we replace the Control Room generator with one of the others and let it sit dormant for two hours.

“And what if it can jump?” Dr. Weir asks.

McKay huffs as if he’s talking to a child. “Then we go dark for two hours again and reboot with the Zed PM. It’ll work.”

Sheppard nods to McKay. “Do it.” Before Carson can stop him, he’s at the bed, scooping Ashri up in his arms. Carson catches the Major’s gaze then gives him a quick nod. He can’t think of any other way to help the lass. And it’s breaking his heart seeing the pain in the Major’s face.

“Major!” Dr. Weir calls.

At the door, Sheppard slowly turns to face her and he’s not happy about it. “You’re not trading her life for a couple hours of power.” Then he disappears into the corridor followed by McKay. Teyla and Ford give Dr. Weir a wide berth before quickly rushing after the others.

Dr. Weir runs her fingers through her hair, settling it finally. She heaves a sigh, still looking out the door, though no one is there. Carson touches her shoulder and she jumps. “It’s okay, Dr. Weir. I understand.” At least he’s trying to.

“Good,” she sighs. “Because I sure as hell don’t.” She glances at him and he can see such confusion in her green eyes. Even though he knows she’s been sleeping and eating properly, Carson would swear, by the red-rimmed eyes and the blanched skin, she hadn’t slept in weeks. “What is wrong with me?” The stress must have finally taken it’s toll.

But there might be something else, more personal bothering her. For once, Carson wishes he did have a degree in psychology, because then he’d know how to proceed. But as it is, he has to take the easiest route. The truth. “You’re afraid he’ll choose not to return to Atlantis.”

She shakes her head. “Not really,” she says and she sounds very certain of that. Carson doesn’t know if he should be worried or not. The last time she made statements so firmly, she was right on target.

“What is it then?”

“I’m afraid he’ll want to go back.” She locks eyes with Carson, the weariness and confusion suddenly replaced by absolute certainty. “And I can’t allow that to happen.”

Trudy, Carson’s nurse comes in then, interrupting his train of thought as she hands him a medical report. “Oh, crap,” he says and Dr. Weir pulls the report from his hands, giving him a nasty paper cut on his index finger.

~~~

The event horizon shimmers in front of him. John holds Ashri close to his chest and kisses her forehead. She’s still clammy and unconscious, but thankfully, no surges from the infirmary to the gate room. _Hold on,_ he tells her. He glances up at McKay. “Keep a light on for me.”

McKay nods. “Will do.”

And John steps through the gate.

Luminance is just how they left it, bright, colorful and surging with lightning, though not as bad as before. Seems the storm has managed to move on. John rushes down the altar steps and around the pond to the other side of the mountain. He lifts Ashri’s limp hand to key the passageway open. Within moments, they’re inside the dark temple.

John lays her onto the stone table and pulls out his flash light. It’s meager, but enough to see by. “Ashri.” He taps lightly on her cheeks, but she doesn’t stir. “C’mon. You gotta help me here.” John looks around...sees the pond. Maybe…

Lifting her into his arms again, John walks down the steps into the water, fully dressed. He sits on the bottom step, cradling her on his lap so she’s nearly submerged. He rests her head against his shoulder, keeping her face above the water. He drips some water over her forehead, caresses her cheek with his wet hand. The pond seems to support her weight and she easily floats on her own, but he wants to keep her submerged and as close to his body as possibly, so he pulls her back down…he’s not willing to let her go. “Ashri.” He smoothes more water onto her hair and forehead. She’s not moving.

“Don’t do this to me…please!” He cups her face in his hand then runs a wet finger up and down the sides. He doesn’t know when he starts crying, but his body hurts from the rage. His tears drip onto her face. He remembers this pain. Swore he’d never let himself feel it again. And yet here he is…sobbing like the ‘cry-baby’ his father once called him.

Silently he curses his father for being a cold-hearted bastard. But he realizes his dad had it easy. If you don’t feel anything…your heart can’t be shattered.

Just as the lightning once made his body buck and shake, so now do the uncontrollably sobs wrenched from his soul. John drops his forehead, pressing it against hers. She’s cooler now, but he doesn’t take that as a good sign. There’s so much he wanted to say to her. So much more they needed to share. He kisses her deeply, hoping futilely for some sign of life still within. When nothing happens, the miracle fairy tale kiss fails, John throws his head back, letting loose an animal like howl ripped from deep within his chest. His rage echoes throughout the temple, scaring the birds from their comfy perches.

John thought Ashri would never hurt him…he couldn’t have been more wrong. The sobs and heaving slowly subside, but the tears still flow, hot and heavy down his cheeks. _I should have told her!_

But he was afraid. Afraid of three little words that now she’ll never get to hear. John caresses her face again, wishing he could look into her eyes once more, but knowing if he did, she would not be there. He pulls her up, drapes her limp arms around his neck and hugs her close, burying his face in her wet hair. “I love you,” he sighs against her ear. “Forever.”

Feeling the tightness in his chest and a lump in his throat, John knows the sobs are coming back full force, but he doesn’t care. He sits in the water, rocking with her, telling her over and over… “I love you.”

Time has no place in the dark cavern, but the beam from his flashlight is beginning to fade. His body shakes as the tears slowly ebb. John looks down at Ashri, his beautiful lady Godiva that once rose from this same water as some fantasy vision, has become his Sleeping Beauty. Her eyes closed, angelic face slack. He wishes he had a picture of her. Why didn’t he think about that!

He kisses her lightly, one last time…feeling a slight tingle in his head.

_John…_

~~~

“What should we do?” Carson asks as soon as she finishes the report on Ashri’s blood test.

Finally Dr. Weir looks at him. Her arms are crossed over her chest, her eyes narrowed and she’s biting her bottom lip. That same look is in her eyes, the absolute certainty of the person in charge. “Don’t tell him.”

“But, Dr. Weir…?”

“Is there anything to be done about it?”

Carson shakes his head and sighs. “No.”

“Then it would only hurt him to know.”

“I suppose…but, still.” He’s a medical doctor. It’s a medical situation. He should tell Major Sheppard as soon as the man returns. _What if he decides not to return?_

As if seeing the debate on his face, Dr. Weir steps right up to Carson and grips both his upper arms fiercely. She’s surprisingly strong for such a tiny lass. “Carson. It’s privileged,” she says in that stern voice she usually only reserves for McKay or the Major. “I’m ordering you to keep it that way.”

Carson’s eyes widen. She actually made it an order! How can she do that to him? He’s never been good with secrets when someone’s health…hell entire future is involved. “But…”

She holds up a finger, cutting him off. “An order, Carson.”

With a heavy sigh and even a heavier heart, Carson nods. “Very well, Dr. Weir.” He pushes the paper into the file. “But I don’t like it. And I don’t understand why.”

She nods curtly before heading out of the infirmary and he can swear he hears her mumble, “Neither do I.”

~~~

Rodney’s at the control panel when the gate lights up. “Incoming wormhole.”

“Shield,” Dr. Weir says from her normal perch on the balcony.

Peter looks up from his laptop. “It’s Major Sheppard’s I.D.C.”

She sighs. “It’s about time. Open it.”

Major Sheppard saunters through the gate at his own leisurely pace, in fact, there’s even a bit of a bounce to his step. Rodney rushes down the stairs, passing Teyla and Ford before they can get up to greet the Major. “You were gone long enough.”

“Not that long, Rodney.”

“Eleven hours, Major.”

“Oh…that long, huh?” Sheppard smiles slyly, rubbing the back of his neck before raising his eyes to the balcony as he usually does after an off-world trip.

Rodney follows his gaze. The balcony is empty. He turns back to the Major, motioning with his hands. “Well? Did it work?”

“Yes,” Teyla says, joining them. “How is she?”

Sheppard grins and bobs his head. “Better.”

“Good. Good.”

“That’s great news, Sir,” Ford adds. “Are you doing all right? You look wiped.”

The Major presses his lips together and raises his creased brows. “Now that you mention it…I am a little tired. Think I’ll hit the sack.”

Rodney catches a glimpse of something and narrows his gaze. He wags a finger. “Is that a…hickey… Major?”

Both Teyla and Ford stop and look at Sheppard as his hand flies to his neck and he scrunches his face, coming up with an explanation. “Probably a bug bite.”

“Hmm. A bed-bug perhaps?” Rodney raises his brows and exchanges amused looks with Ford. “And, I imagine, this bug would be about…say five-foot-seven, exotically beautiful?”

Sheppard nods, making a face. “Sounds about right.”

“I see.” Rodney claps his hands together. “Well then. So happy I could facilitate your…how should I put this…exposure to said bug.”

“Yes, Rodney,” Sheppard grins sheepishly. “Thank you very much.”

Rodney glances up to the balcony. “That’s a wrap, Grodin. Shut it down.”

As the power in the Control Room and gatrium dies down, Teyla, Ford and Sheppard head for the corridor leading to the quarters.

~~~

The pain in Teyla’s heart lifted as soon as the Major indicated Ashri would be all right. She is still saddened that the woman would have to remain on the planet all alone. As she and Lt. Ford walk along the corridor with the Major, Teyla says: “I am surprised to see you, actually.”

“That tired of me, already, eh, Teyla?” Major Sheppard says in his usual light manner.

“Not at all. I simply meant--”

He raises a hand and chuckles softly. “I know what you meant. And I can’t say I wasn’t tempted.” He sighs. “Very tempted.”

Keeping pace with them, Lt. Ford walks on the other side of the Major. “What made you come back, sir. If you don’t mind my asking.”

Major Sheppard halts walking, he puts his hands in his pockets and looks down at the floor, rocking slightly. “Ashri did.”

Teyla exchanges a confused glance with Lt. Ford. “Really?” They say at the same time.

He licks his lips; something she notices he does when he is trying to find the right words to say or when he is embarrassed. “It’s a long story.” He looks at both of them in turn and Teyla can see the longing in his eyes, the sadness he is desperate to hide. “But she convinced me this is where I’m needed.”

Teyla nods. She wonders if she would have been able to let go of a love so dear. There is no doubt in Teyla’s mind that Ashri truly loves Major Sheppard. So what could it be that prompted her to let him go…to have to ‘convince’ him as it were? “Perhaps you will be able to visit her soon.”

Lt. Ford clears his throat and seems to be quite distressed about something. “Dr. Weir has ordered Luminance locked out of the dialing system.”

“Of course she has,” Major Sheppard says and Teyla gets the impression he is not surprised.

“I had not heard. I am sorry, Major.”

Major Sheppard waves a hand in the air and starts walking again. They are only a few feet from his quarters. The door opens and the Major steps inside, but not before Lt. Ford notices something Teyla did not. “Uhh, Major?”

“Yeah, Ford.”

Lt. Ford lowers his voice and glances around quickly. “Where’s your GDO?”

Major Sheppard looks at his bare arm, raises his brows and shrugs. “Hmm. Dunno.” He smiles in that charming manner Teyla has come to mistrust immediately. “Must’ve lost it,” he says.

Lt. Ford looks to Teyla and she can tell he’s thinking the same thing: Major Sheppard’s up to something. “That’s a shame,” Lt. Ford says with a sly broad smile.

The Major’s mischievous grin—marked with dimples—re-appears, raising Teyla’s suspicions. “Yeah…big one,” Major Sheppard says as he disappears behind his closing door.

 

_fini_


End file.
